


Damaged Goods

by reidhiddles



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25193050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidhiddles/pseuds/reidhiddles
Summary: I have been watching Criminal Minds a lot lately and wanted to pick back up on writing so I figured what better way to do so then write a fic about the show I'm watching.This is going to be a story where the female character starts working for the BAU and then has a love interest, which will be Reid. The cases are going to be what is shown in the show, because I honestly don't want to come up with different cases like other writers do.Enjoy!
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	1. Welcome to the BAU

Tiny beads of sweat slowly trailed down my sun kissed skin as I stared at the building in front of me. My clammy hands reached out slowly to grip the warm metal hand to pull the clear glass door open, my heart nearly beating out of my chest as the cool air overtook my senses while I moved through the building to the front desk. The woman's skin was an olive tone with her deep brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail to keep out of her face. Her forest green eyes glanced up at me before raising her finger, telling me one moment, before continuing to type away at the computer in front of her. My fingers drummed at my side as I patiently waited for her to finish, every so often adjusting the strap of my duffle bag to keep me comfortable. They told me that I would need to bring what they call a 'go-bag' on my first day and keep it at my desk.

"How can I help you?" Her voice was rough, as if she had been smoking for five years prior to this moment, yet once she coughed and repeated her question, it sounded as if she hadn't picked up a cigarette a day in her life. I gave a kind smile before informing her that I was to start at the BAU today and that I was in need of a badge. "Honey, you are going to need to go the BAU floor for that. Just take the elevators to the right up to the third floor and find Agent Aaron Hotchner. He should be able to help you."

The elevators were sleek and clean on the inside, giving off a strong smell of overpriced cologne as I squished myself between men inside the confined space. My heart continued to pound out of my chest with each floor until the doors slid open with a hiss to reveal the Behavioral Analysis Unit of Quantico. Past a wall of glass doors with the BAU sigil marked in a light white had been numerous desks with papers piled in a messy yet orderly fashion. Stairs led to a slightly higher level that had offices lining one side and another set of stairs that led to a room closed off by shut blinds. It was amazing and I hadn't even opened the doors yet. 

"First day on the job?" A borderline cocky yet smooth velvet voice had slipped through my ears, my head turning to find a light skinned god in a dark green Henly shirt hugging tight to his skin. His chocolate milk brown eyes held a kindness that told me I could tell him anything in confidence. His hand slowly moved forward, opening up for a handshake which I politely gave with a smile. "Derek Morgan."

"Nerida Priest." His skin was mostly smooth, but the curves of his fingers hinted the beginning of callouss along. "Do you happen to know where I can find an Agent Aaron Hotchner? I was told to find him for my badge."

The mention of Agent Hotchner had seemed to turn his kind smile into a genuine grin before nodding and directing me to follow him through the glass doors after he swiped his ID that halted my step when I first reached the floor. 

The strong overwhelming smell of freshly brewed coffee overwhelmed my senses as I followed Derek Morgan through the sea of agents dressed in crisp clothing with tired eyes. Metal cabinets lined the walls with bins full of paperwork filling the open spaces. My eyes following the walls of the room to an area with a table that held three agents talking. One was tall and lanky, even when he was sitting down with a dark haired woman sitting across from him and a blonde haired thin woman sitting next to the other women. All three had coffee that had been just poured from the coffee pot on the counters behind them. 

I was led up the stairs to one of the offices along the left side of the room. Inside was clean. Bookshelves lined the the back wall with a desk facing the rest of the room. A tall man with jet black hair and an intimidating facade was staring at a tan folder laying open on his desk. Derek Morgan had called out, addressing the man as Hotch, before giving me a polite pat on the shoulder on his way out of the office. 

"Can I help you?" His words were sharp and unforgiving. He was straight to the point and his eyes were locked in a permanent state of suspicion as he slowly stood from his desk and outreached his hand. 

"Hello, Agent Hotchner. I'm Nerida Priest. I'm supposed to be starting tonight?" I shook his hand and watched as he closed the folder and moved in front of his desk. He was tall, especially compared to me. He towered over my frame and watched down at me with beady eyes that made shivers run down my spine. 

"Is that a question, or are you telling me?" 

"Sorry, sir. I am telling you that I start today. You should have my paperwork." Agent Aaron Hotchner gave me a quick once over, the intimidation running through every part of his body, before directing me to follow him. I was being led once more out of the clean glass doors and down the hall to a warm room. With no words, the man who had been positioned at the only computer in the room had pointed me to stand in front of a wall. Two long minutes later, I was handed a warm freshly printed ID badge. My fingers ran along the smooth surface with an overwhelming feeling of pride taking over my entire body. 

"Agent Priest." The sharp voice had torn me from my thoughts as he motioned me once more to follow him. "You will not be armed, not yet at least. You will have to go through the same thing all of the other agents go through when they first start before being handed a weapon. Your desk will be across from Agent Spencer Reid. He will be there for any questions you need." 

Agent Hotchner had gripped the handle of the door leading into the BAU, pulling it open to allow me to walk through, before leading me towards a freshly cleaned L shaped cherry wood desk. My fingers ran along the edge before settling on the golden framed black name tag that said Nerida Priest in pure white letters. The BAU sigil was next to it. I was so entranced at the fact that I was actually here that I didn't hear Agent Hotchner retreat back into his office. 

"Oh. My. God. Another girl in the office? Score!" I glanced up to find a bright woman standing in front of me. She was dressed in colorful clothing with her bright blonde hair tied up in pigtails. Her dress was a calve length bright blue with a flower in her hair to match. Her fingers gripped a cup of steaming hot coffee, the smell still lingering in the air with every step she took, and a grin had made its way across her face. "Penelope Garcia. Oh, come with me. I have to introduce to everyone." 

Before I could utter a syllable, her fingers wrapped around my wrist to pull me in the direction of the kitchenette attached to the pit. Penelope Garcia led me to where four other members of the BAU had sat where they were fully engrossed in what seemed to be a very amusing conversation. The sound of the heavy clacking of heals had brought their attention to the two of us approaching the table, and I saw the faces of the agents. I recognized one as Derek Morgan who had given me a kind and welcoming smile once again. 

Across from Derek was a tall and lanky man who held an awkward demeanor. He had curly chocolate brown hair that was nearly shoulder length and obviously unkempt. He wore a deep purple button up shirt with a navy green vest, his tie matching the two colors. His pants were jet black with his badge clipped to the belt loop. He gave me an awkward yet calming smile as he stood up to offer me a handshake and introduce himself as Spencer Reid. His skin was smooth and his fingernails showed that he bit them on a regular basis. My eyes bounced across his face to notice the freshly shaved skin before falling to meet his beautiful hazel eyes. I returned the smile. 

A pale skinned woman had sat across beside Derek Morgan. Her hair was straightened and shoulder length with a dark brown color. Bangs fell down to have a sharp end at her thin eyebrows. Her torso sported a black turtle neck that was tight around the hips with her badge clipped to her chest and wore pants of similar color. She gave me a kind smile as well, informing me that her name was Emily Prentiss, before standing to shake my hand. Her skin was smoother than Spencers and had the remains of lotion lingering in the palm. 

The final person to stand up was a woman who had long blonde hair and a creamy skin color. She wore a deep blue striped button up with her badge clipped to the edge. Her pants were navy blue jeans. Her smile didn't reach her baby blue eyes but was welcoming nonetheless. Her hands were filled with a hot cup of coffee and a thick file of papers so she was unable to shake my hand but had told me her name was Jennifer Jareau, but that everyone calls her JJ. 

"Hi, I'm Nerida Priest. I literally just started. My badge is still warm actually, hot of the press." Spencer Reid was the only one to give a light hearted breathy chuckle at my crappy joke that I didn't even intend to make, his eyes watching my face carefully. The remaining agents just smiled politely before following JJ into what I assumed was the briefing room where Agent Hotchner had already been standing in along with another gentleman who I later found out to be the famous David Rossi. 

Emily and the remaining agents took a seat at the large oval table positioned in the center of a room while JJ moved to the front to take control of the large television that had been hanging on the deep red walls. I hesitantly took a seat across from Spencer Reid, taking mental note at how every so often his eyes had glanced over to look at me over the next couple of minutes until JJ began to inform us of the case. 

"What do we got?" The smooth voice of Derek Morgan had bounced off the dark colored walls as we all took our seats. We watched as JJ grabbed the remote off of another cherry oak desk positioned underneath the screen before clicking to a news footage of a burning building. This was my first case and the first thing I saw was a building engulfed in fire red flames. 

"This is news footage from a movie theater in Royal, Indiana, population 2,000. Earlier tonight, 19 people were killed." The footage played in the background as the agents sitting at the table drank in what JJ was telling us, trying to suck in as much information as we could. I watched as they all had their eyes tied to the footage before bouncing over to JJ once she had given a brief run down of what took place just a few short hours ago. 

"They sure it's arson? Not just some mishap in the concession kitchen?" My voice had squeaked out of my lips without a warning. The surrounding agents eyes had shot over to me while I kept a steady gaze at the blonde woman who was informing us of the case. 

"Yeah. The local rec center had the same thing happen two days ago. 12 victims and no survivors." At the mention of that fire, Prentiss and Morgan had spoke up that they had heard about it on the news the night it happened. "There were some details that didn't make the news. About a week and a half earlier, there were some fires at a convenience store, a restaurant. It was after hours and nobody got hurt but this town has been seeing a rise in fires in the last couple of weeks."

"So, whoever set these went from no victims to 31 in less than 2 weeks. That's a hell of an escalation. Why didn't they call us in sooner?" Rossi had spoken up from his corner of the room where he leaned on a counter that held coffee mugs and yet another coffee pot. I had read nearly all of his stories in college and whenever I would waver in my step about pursuing a career in this line of work, his books would always bring me back. 

"The local police and fire department knew they were dealing with an arsonist. They had no idea that it would turn into a serial killer." JJ placed her palms flat against the table, giving her full support on the furniture, as she informed us of the predicament the department was in.

"Most arsonists don't. They just like setting fires, they never intend to kill anyone. Any deaths that occur are almost always accidental." I noticed Spencer's gaze shoot to me out of the corner of my eye with furrowed eyebrows. Prentiss glanced over at him before back to me, as if she was surprised that he didn't say that before telling him that he had competition. I raised my eyebrows in confusion before hearing Derek Morgan speak up and say that 31 victims is no accident. "The police chief knows he made a mistake now. He just had to learn it the hard way."

Hotchner had stood abruptly before informing the team that wheels would be up in 30 and to grab our go-bags. I watched everyone else begin to follow suit and file out of the room with their minds running over the details of the case. Spencer and Prentiss had fallen back before he began to walk ahead of her to get his things. She stayed back to make sure my first day was doing okay. 

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting to be heading out so soon after starting." Emily had chuckled at my vague innocence. She was surprised that they weren't leaving the second I got in the door. Apparently things move fast in this unit. She also informed me with what she meant when she had mentioned that Spencer had some competition. He was the resident encyclopedia of the BAU and anytime something was mentioned, he would almost always have an interesting fact about it whether it needed to be said or not. Emily couldn't count the times that he had interrupted to let the team know a useless fact on her fingers and her toes. I felt the corner of my lip twitch into a tiny smirk before she walked off to her own desk while we approached mine. 

Spencer had sat in the black leather chair at his desk, his fingers rummaging through his bag to make sure that he had everything he would need before we left for Royal. His hazel eyes had glanced up to meet mine as I pulled my own go-bag out from underneath my table. I had briefly set it down before Garcia had taken it upon herself to have me meet the rest of the team. 

"Look, if I am stepping on anyone's toes or pushing you out of the smart guy seat, let me know." My voice had rattled him with his fingers starting to tick more and more as he found other things to mess with in his bag. Do I make him nervous, or is he just like this? A few quiet seconds had passed as I unzipped my duffle bag before his anxious voice had ripped through the air.

"You aren't stepping on my toes. It was actually enjoyable to have someone in there who does that too." It was quiet, almost inaudible, but I somehow caught it. I looked up from my bag and caught him staring at me with the slightest smile on his face as his eyes caught mine. He reminded me of a puppy. "Besides, we can share the smart guy seat."

After an agonizingly long thirty minutes had passed, the six of us had made our way to a clean white jet that sat on the landing strip. The door hissed open as we approached the aircraft and before boarding, Derek Morgan had told me that he hopes that I had been on a plane before. I gave an amused grin before stepping up the light wood colored steps into the jet. The were tan booth seats with oak wood tables, a few similar colors seats in the back and then a small couch behind one of the two booth seats. The walls were the same color as the steps leading into the aircraft and the air held a strong smell of Pinesol and wood cleaner. Everyone took their seats and I made note to take one of the empty booth seats with my own folder of the case resting on the table. Rossi took the seat across from me and gave me a kind smile before introducing himself.

"David Rossi." I shook his hand that he had outstretched across the table that had both of our files on it before informing him that I had read his books throughout college and that it was really interesting stuff. His smile grew at the mention of someone who had read his works and enjoyed them. I am sure that he gets compliments from his work all the time, but it helped me get through college. The rumble of the jet told us that we were on the move and Hotchner told us that we would be arriving in Royal within the next two hours. "We normally go over the case again on the way there."

It was nice that he was helping to show me the ropes and what they do while they are on the way to the location of the crime. I gave a polite smile and told him thank you before turning my attention to Spencer who had begun to pace as he talked about the suspect.

"Based on the limited population of Royal, the unsub is most likely a local male between the ages of 17 and 30." He leaned against the table across where Rossi and I sat to face a laptop that had been set up to show Garcia in what looked to be a separate computer room. She had asked if arson was a sexist industry which I took the liberty of answering.

"For the most part, yeah actually. Females take up about 12% of arsonists." My eyes ran along the case file, taking in every part I could as I heard Garcia say the same thing that Prentiss said in the briefing room. Spencer had some competition. I glanced up at Reid with an amused expression in which he just rolled his eyes with the hint of a smirk on his pink lips. Aaron Hotchner cut off any signs of playful banter by quickly stating that we need to focus on the male civilians next, in which Morgan followed up that we can scratch the hero complex off the list because he hasn't left anyone to save. "We can't rule out firefighters and first responders though."

"How's about I do a background on all local firefighters and EMT's?" Garcia had spoken through the screen on the laptop. Hotchner had answered her question with telling her to also flag anyone with a history of being first on the scene. Rossi backed it up with saying to flag those that had a record that included vandalism or small fires. 

"Is there a way that we can find personal footage of the fire? Pictures, videos, anything? We could check to see if he stuck around to watch his work, see if anyone in the footage looked off or out of place?" I asked the question to nobody in particular and glanced around at everyone for an answer. I watched as Hotchner gave a brief nod before telling JJ to get in contact with the news stations to see if we can get any footage like that. 

"Did they find anything in their call logs that resemble the unsub's M.O.?" Derek was the one to ask a question this time. There have been cases in which those who started the fires or had done the crime called the local police station in order to report it. We learned about a ton of those cases in my classes. Rossi had shook his head at the question, stating that there was nothing within the past year to state that he would have done anything that would resemble him doing a practice run. At the mention of that, Garcia was told to extend her search to state wide to see if there was anything like that in the surrounding counties. 

"What about the victims? We should find out who they have been talking to, see if they share anything that could cause someone to do this to them."

"Already on it."

"When we land, JJ and I will go meet with the police chief. Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the crime scene to see if you can find anything that wasn't in the report. Rossi, I want you to go with them. Reid and Priest, you guys go to the precinct and find out where they want us to set up and start figuring out who exactly we are looking for." Everyone gave a brief yet understanding nod at Hotchner who had given everyone their job for this case. Spencer looked down at me for a short second at the mention of the two of us staying at the precinct while everyone else was getting into the action, as if to see if I gave any sign that I wasn't okay with that, but when he noticed that I nodded along with everyone else, his attention turned away to go sit at one of the empty seats in the aircraft. 

Our landing was smooth along the asphalt runway of the closest airport to Royal. Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss got into a large black SUV while JJ and Hotchner did the same thing. Spencer motioned for me to follow him to the lone black Escalade before informing me that he was driving. The two of us piled into the car and it roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition. I felt the leather seat beneath me rumble for a split second before the vehicle settled into a light hum of the engine slipping through the vents of the air conditioner. I found the address for the Royal precinct and inserted it into the navigation system on the car before Spencer pulled out of the parking lot.

His thin fingers wrapped loosely around the dark leather brown steering wheel with his eyes trained on the road, only wavering to glance down at the navigation map to see which road to take, whilst I sat quiet in the passenger seat. It wasn't awkward - the silence. We both knew that there wasn't much we could talk about until we arrived at the precinct and heard back from Garcia. Still, the threat of making small talk had been hanging in the air surrounding me. I had a feeling this was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am probably going to not continue with naming the chapters because i honestly just don't know. that first one was named welcome to the bau for obvious reasons and i think it will just be left at that.

My fingers ran along the laminate pictures of the victims that we had taped to the wall as JJ informed us that she had torn through every piece of footage she could find but had come up short when looking for someone who might have been the unsub. Garcia was on the line and had no luck on the firefighters or the police department. Spencer ran through the case file once more as Hotchner and JJ paid attention to talking to Garcia.

"There were a few names that I found that sort of stick out from the rest, so I am emailing you their photos." I turned away from the numerous pictures of the deceased to go stand beside JJ to listen in on what Garcia had to say. Spencer had done the same. "I also found patterns of small gasoline fires around 300 miles away from Royal in Franklin."

Garcia had gone into a rant to list off all of the fires that were in the list within the 300 mile radius. It was indeed nuisance fires with anything from garbage to old Christmas trees being lit on fire. My fingers opened up my case file to give one more glance at the words while JJ had mentioned that we couldn't really tie those fires to our unsub because of how large the search radius was.

"That's true, but only 7% of arsonists use wooden matches with a gasoline accelerant, our unsub and this guy." Spencer had spoken quietly, almost mumbling, as his fingers combed through the file that Garcia had sent over. I moved quietly behind JJ and Hotch to read at the file alongside Reid to see if there was anything we could tie together. Garcia had gone to discuss what she had found out about the victims in the little time she had and when Spencer asked about crossovers, she had informed him that there was nothing but crossover. 

There was ties to just about everyone in the list. A man killed in the rec center had owned the movie theatre and there were numerous affairs that had been lined in there as well. Spencer had handed the file off to me as he went to look at the pictures once more. I flipped through page after page in search of anything that could help whilst Hotchner continued to tell Garcia that she would have to act as a profiler for this case. Hotch didn't stay too much longer. He had informed us that we needed to continue to look into the nuisance fires while he had left to go to the funeral to search for the unsub. 

"This is indicative of a revenge arsonist so the victims had to have done something that he didn't like. It can't just be a random thing. But what did they do and how do they overlap?" I was speaking to myself at this point. Spencer had glanced over at me with slightly raised eyebrows with curiosity laced eyes before realizing that I was talking to myself and JJ didn't even glance up from the computer she had positioned herself in front of. 

The funeral was a bust. The unsub had started another fire instead of watching his work unravel and the hurt he had caused spread throughout the service and Hotch along with the rest of the agents there had left early in order to scour the scene in search of anything that could help. They had come to the conclusion that something there was much more important than being at the funeral service, and therefore, they had returned and were ready to give the profile to the police. The seven of us stood in front of sea of police offers dressed in dark blue uniforms with their hands resting by their weapons as we discussed who we would be looking for. 

"It would be a local man. He would have grown up in Royal or lives here now, but feels like he doesn't really belong because in some way the community has wronged him. He is using these fires as a way to strike back and draw attention to himself." Each one of us had something to input with the profile in order to give the officers the best chance at identifying and catching this guy. "These fires gave him a sense of power in the community. But they didn't attract enough attention, or it didn't catch the attention of the right person. So he reduced the number of victims with the bar fire. The third fire is key because now he is striking out against only a small number of individuals. So the victims of the bar fire hold the key."

The officers nodded in a simple understanding before we allowed them to disperse and continue with their job. Rossi and Hotch had left the precinct once more to visit the burn patient in critical care at the hospital in attempts to find any information on the unsub. She didn't have much time left and so they needed to get there as soon as possible. Everyone else was left with Spencer and me in the briefing room we had set up. Garcia was once again on video chat as we asked if she could tell us more about the bar victims. She, of course, said yes and Spencer started off by asking about Hilda and Roger Drake.

"Uh, he sold insurance and she was a teacher. They seemed sweet, so it didn't appear that they had any enemies." So they were a dead end. I put a bright yellow sticky note beside their names in order to mark off that there wasn't anything to go off of. The next person was named Eric Gall. "He was a boozer who spent most of his time at Pop's Place. There are a few drunk and disorderlies, but other than that, he seems pretty much harmless. The whole town loved him given the amount of rounds he buys."

A neon orange sticker was tied to his name. He has a history but it could be nothing. Our look into the names was cut short by Hotchner calling Morgan's cellphone to inform him that the bartender said there was a suspicious man that she had never seen before there that night that kept switching seats. 

"Wait, so she knew the owner and the boozer. The husband wouldn't have gotten up and changed seats. If the bartender didn't recognize him, there is a possibility that he isn't from Royal. This is a small town and everyone recognizes everyone." Emily had rambled off that it could have been a resident from a neighboring town responsible for these fires. Spencer had shot it down but asking what if she just didn't realize that she knew him. "What, like a disguise?"

"The fire captain said that the unsub knew the layout of the movie theatre. He used that knowledge with the fire, but at the bar, he kept changing seats." Emily finished off my statement off by saying that continuously changing seats would allow him to have a better view of the entrances and exits. Derek had brought up that he didn't know about the layout, that he was unfamiliar with the territory. "What if the unsub grew up in Royal and moved away? Garcia, what year was that bar built?" 

Once Garcia informed us that the bar was built 6 years ago, I followed up with another question on when the movie theatre was built. It went under-construction two years ago but was built in the forties. She took it upon herself to also tell us that the Rec center was built in the late seventies despite us not having asked yet. Derek stepped away briefly to inform Hotch of our latest discoveries and told us that he would be here within the next couple of minutes. Garcia continued to tell us the history of the bar as well as the owners.

"Jason named the bar after his dad who was actually the sole beneficiary." Prentiss has said that it would make sense because he was single in which Garcia responded with the information that he was single. "A couple of days ago, he married a woman named Tina Wheeler, who is the EMT. I checked her out as one of the first respondents but her records are squeaky clean. I let it go until I realized that she had married Jason and did some aggressive digging and found out that her parents died in a fire when she was 5. After they died, her and her brother were sent to live with their grandparents in Royal."

Hotchner had asked Garcia to send us anything that she had on the two siblings but ran into a roadblock when she had mentioned that she has everything on Tina, but nothing on her brother. There was nothing to be found on Tommy Wheeler, it was as if he had never existed. Aaron demanded that Garcia make finding him her top priority. With that, the video footage ended and we were left to continue our jobs. I fell into an empty seat next to me, my hands wringing together as everyone awaited Garcia's next call. 

"So, how is your first day going?" Morgan had asked me while leaning against the table I was sitting at. He had an amused smirk on his face and his arms were crossed across his chest as if waiting for me to say that it was going horrible and I regret the choice I made. With raised eyebrows, I leaned back into my chair and gave him a smile.

"It is actually going pretty well, if you ask me. I am doing the thing I worked my entire life to do so I'm not complaining." His shoulders rose and fell with the signs of a chuckle before glancing down at the open files sprawled across the table before me that we had been combing over all day. My eyes danced across the room to find everyone else doing the same thing that they had been doing. Spencer was reading more files on the victims and paying attention to the pictures. JJ was talking with Hotchner about how to handle everything. Rossi and Prentiss were discussing details of the case. "Just want to catch this guy."

"Don't we all, sweetheart." A loud and incessant cellphone ringing had brought the room to a hush as Hotch answered his cellphone. His words were short and silent as it was no doubt Garcia on the other line informing her boss on what she had found. The call was brief but held information that would be crucial to this investigation. Once he hung up, he gave us a knowing look before calling the sheriff into the room to inform him of our discovery. 

The older gentleman walked in with hopeful eyes that we had finally found out who this ruthless murderer might be and stood along the side of the room while Hotchner moved to the front near the board. 

"We believe that Jason may have been the target." The sheriffs thick grey eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he repeated the mans name as if to make sure that he heard Hotch right. "The bartender said that Jason stopped by the bar at the same time each day to pick up the cash and take it to the bank which would have made him an easy target for anyone who knew his schedule."

The sheriff shook his head in disbelief, trying to brush off that anyone could have wanted to hurt him by saying that everyone in town loved him.I stood carefully from the table I had been sitting at to move closer to the front of the room, asking what they can tell us about Tina Wheeler's brother, Tommy. The sheriff tensed up slightly at that and informed us that nobody has seen him in more than ten years. Spencer countered that by saying that they could have seen him and just not recognized him because it's been ten years and he would make sure that nobody would recognize. As the conversation continued, I continued to glance in the direction of the sheriff who had now noticeable tensed around the mention of Tommy and Tina's childhood. 

"There were rumors around town. Tommy and Tina were too close, some people thought. Nothing was ever confirmed though." Garcia made a snappy remark about how the truth didn't matter in towns such as Royal but the Sheriff ignored it by continuing to talk about the rumors. "After they started, things got ugly and he eventually got expelled from school." 

Garcia continued to make remarks that eventually turned into the team finding out that Tommy Wheeler had been beaten by grown men within an inch of his life just because of a rumor that had nothing to back it up. The Sheriff, of course, had stated that he knew nothing until after the event had taken place and that he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't go after men based on suspicions.

"But it was okay for these grown men to go after a child because of a rumor that was started, that was just town gossip? That was a kid, Sheriff, one that had gone through horrible trauma so he got close with the only person who knows what he went through and you guys made it seem like there was sometime else going on." It was my turn to get snappy. I moved closer to the Sheriff who had now put a metaphorical wall around himself to make sure that we couldn't profile him anymore. His arms were crossed in a defensive manner and his eyes were jumping from person to person, sometimes falling on me and sometimes falling on the computer screen that Garcia was on. He quickly said that nobody was talking about it, not even Tommy, so that he couldn't do anything. Hotch had informed me that I needed to step back and I huffed before moving to stand near the back of the room where Spencer had been hovering awkwardly.

Garcia told us that the grandparents ended up moving Tommy away from Royal, sending him to a boarding school in Colorado and cutting off all ties he could have to his sister. The sheriff had quickly mentioned that it was for the best and that if he had stayed in town any longer, he would have been dead. Spencer caught one of my feet moving forward only slightly and carefully reached his hand to softly grip my bicep. I glanced at his hold before looking at his face where he lightly shook his head no. I swallowed my pride before settling back into my previous stance of standing in the back of the room with my fists clenched at my side. 

"If what Garcia is saying is true, then this town went a long way towards making Tommy who he is." That made the sheriff shift his stance onto his other leg, his hands falling at his side with his head shaking. Hotch looked back at the team and told us that he would be going to Tina's house to talk to her with Rossi and the sheriff before the two FBI agents threw on a bulletproof vest over their clothing and headed out. Once it was just the five of us left alone in the briefing room, I angrily sat in one of the chairs along the wall while the rest stared at me in what could easily pass as worry. 

"Leave it." My words were sharp and unintentionally angry. As soon as the words escaped in that tone, my body flinched inwardly and I looked away from the team who watched me with curious eyes. "Sorry." 

All looks of worry and pity were dropped at that moment. Garcia continued to rattle off things that she had continued to learn about the Wheeler family as Spencer threw on a cardigan that he had brought with him despite already wearing a button up and a vest. Morgan paced around the room while JJ and Prentiss sat at the table next to the laptop.

"He only went to the boarding school that his grandparents shipped him off to for a year and a half at most before going to juvie for 3 years. His psych evals there were less than stellar. So, how mad do you think he is?" Her voice was shaky and wavering on signs of tears falling from her eyes.

"If I was him, I would be pretty pissed." Morgan hesitated in his next step at my answer before agreeing with me. The rest of the team did so too. "He was put through hell and sent away from the family that was supposed to be there for him after his parents died just because of a rumor in a town that doesn't give a damn about it's residents anyways." 

Garcia sighed heavily at my response before going into a rambling state of wondering if she really did what she was supposed to do and if she did her job correctly. I watched from a chair pushed against a wall as her head started shaking and some stray tears fell as she began to fear that she was similar to the residents of this town who had based everything off of nothing more than a rumor. Morgan had stopped the panic attack before it began by calling her baby and telling her she needed to stick to Tommy. The shaking stopped but the tears continued to fall every so often as she continued to inform us about the things that Tommy Wheeler went through that would lead him to a life of arson and murder. 

"After he left juvie at 16, the trail went cold until he re-emerged in Franklin, Indiana two months ago. A store owner said that he purchased copious amounts of gas but that it wasn't uncommon in Indiana because of all the farms but it was unusual because Tommy didn't own a farm." Spencer spoke up by saying that him buying that gas makes up for the nuisance fires we read about upon first arriving. "After his spending spree, though, his trail goes cold and now I can't find him." 

As soon as Garcia stops giving us more information on Tommy, Morgan's phone rings and we hear him address the caller as Hotch. He hangs up a few short seconds later to tell Prentiss that Hotch wants us to bring Rawlings, an older gentlemen who is a resident of Royal, to Tina's house and that there is still no sign of the woman. Emily straps a bulletproof vest to her chest and pulls her sleek hair into a ponytail before leaving the precinct to get Rawlings while the rest of us pile into the large black Escalade that we arrived in to head to the home of Tina Wheeler. 

It was a cute house - one that I could find myself living in if I lived a small town lifestyle. The furniture was exactly what you would think would be in a house like this and the walls were scarcely decorated in pictures and wall decorations bought at the local store. Once we arrived, we scattered throughout the house to help look for anything that might help us find out where Tommy might have brought Tina. Drawer after drawer after drawer was opened but nothing was found until they pulled an old shoe box out from underneath her bed that had mementos of Jason and her childhood locked away. It was poured onto the table in the dining room and memories scattered over the wood. 

Thin bright blue gloves hugging the hands of the agents dragged across the photos and other things that were found in the box. My skin began to grow sweaty underneath the latex but it was continuously ignored each time I found a picture of the siblings. Yeah, they were a little close and these pictures showed it, but that doesn't excuse the town's behavior towards the kid. My fingers combed through old newspaper articles cut out to make memories and reached for a milky white sheet of paper that read the information for a dance. 

"Hotchner, I think I have something." The taller gentleman walked over towards me with his hand outstretched for the sheet of paper that I held in my grip. The agents at the table and I watched as the sheriff joined Hotch in looking at the paper before telling us it was a flyer for the spring dance that they hold every year at the community center. "This was the dance for May of '98. It was just before Tommy was beaten and forced out of town. Is this something that they would have gone to?"

The sheriff nodded, telling us that it was a big dance for the town and even people who didn't have a date went to it. That was all Hotch needed to hear. With that information, he directed the remaining agents and I to follow him and load into the Escalade while the police piled into their own cars to race along with us to the community center. Hotchner had thrown himself into the driver's seat while Rossi took the front passenger. Spencer took the very back row along with Morgan while I was shoved in the middle with Prentiss. The tension of the car was thick and couldn't be cut with a knife as we sped through the thin roads of Royal with our blinding lights and deafening sirens bouncing off the buildings as we passed them. 

The air was cool when we arrived. The six agents and I stepped out into the street where the trees surrounding the buildings whipped back and forth as the air kissed between it's limbs while the cops rushed to open the doors. Hotchner had given Morgan and I ordered to go around the back and make sure he doesn't slip through the back alleyway once he realizes that he is no longer alone with Tina. I followed closely behind the burly man, my eyes never settling on one spot for too long, as we moved through the thin alleyway between the two buildings to reach the side door before slipping with ease inside. 

There was already sounds of commotion spilling into the stairwell that led up to what one could only assume was the ballroom. Light slipped out from between the cracks where the door met the framing and Derek motioned for me to get behind him. I was left without a weapon and therefore could not protect quickly myself if this man was armed. My body was pushed tightly against the wall as Morgan slowly pushed open the door with his weapon readily trained on the man who was holding a match above a puddle on the floor that emitted a strong smell of pure gasoline. 

"Tommy, you don't want to hurt her. You love her." The added feminine voice shot his head towards my direction and his eyes went wide at the sight of two more agents in the room, one armed with their weapon pointed at him. "If you really truly loved her, you wouldn't want to hurt her. You don't want to kill her. Look at how terrified she is. If you love her, let her go, Tommy."

My voice caused Tommy to release his tightening grip around Tina's neck to get a look at the horrified expression on her face, tears marking her bright red face as she pleaded for him to put the match out. Rossi had stepped in to continue to tell Tommy that he didn't want to hurt his sister, that he loved her. The man breathed out the three words before dropping the match just as the fire went out in his hands and Morgan moved forward to cuff him. My hands went to catch Tina as she lost her footing, allowing her to loose her sense of sanity in my arms as she cried out every emotion she could. I soothed her the best I could before allowing the police to come and take over. After the local force took Tina and her brother out of the building, Hotchner approached me with a stern look. 

"I am not going to talk to you about your inappropriate behavior at the precinct because I trust you already know that it was unprofessional and uncalled for. Make sure that it does not happen again, or else you will not step foot in the BAU again." I quickly muttered out an apology that I wasn't sure he could hear. "Call me Hotch. If you plan on sticking around, you need to call me what the other members call me and they don't call me Agent Hotchner." 

He didn't stick around to hear my response. My shoulders fell with a strong sigh of relief while I abandoned the community center to step out into the windy air outside. Tina had been directed towards an ambulance that had arrived while we were inside while they made sure that she was left unharmed while Tommy had been pushed into the backseat of a police cruiser. Derek approached me with a light smile once he noticed I was standing on the sidewalk outside the center. 

"Was it everything you thought it would be?" I looked up at his towering figure, grinning, before giving a nod. 

"That and then some." I spoke truthfully. My first day on the job had met every single expectation I had ever thought about in the following years and then some. My answer had resulted in Derek patting my back before telling me it was time to head out. Before following him, I stood in my spot for a second longer to take everything around me in. I breathed in the fresh cool air into my lungs, reveling in the way it brought a chill to my bones as I watched the police begin to move inside to clean up the gasoline, before deciding it was time to finally pile into the SUV where everyone was waiting. 

My eyelids hung heavy as we landed on the strip of the BAU as I became increasingly aware of the weight of my skin. The plane was only a short two hours but the adrenaline that had continued to pile on itself throughout the day had resulted in me being long overdo for a crash that decided to hit me on the ride home. My fingers gripped the rough fabric of my duffle bag strap as I slowly dragged myself off the plane behind Spencer Reid who had stopped briefly to walk alongside me. 

"My first day, we had a flight that was shorter than that, and I passed out on the way home. The excitement of the day had taken everything out of me." I glanced up at him with tired eyes and a lazy grin as we walked in step towards the building in front of us. I couldn't find the words to talk right now. "So, what did you think of your first case?" 

"It was pretty sad. I mean, I know that it is no excuse to burn buildings and kill people, but Tommy's upbringing was so rough. He was bound to explode in one way or another sometime." Somehow, I managed to pull the words out of my throat to answer his question honestly. "He watched his parents burn in a fire, got close to the one person who knew what he was going through and because he didn't have a good parent figure to tell him right from wrong and that he couldn't feel that way, he got a little too close and then he was beat within an inch of his life because of it and ran out of town where the one person who he truly related to with was left to grow up without him." 

We reached our desks and both fell down into the cushioned seat in almost perfect unison as Spencer listened to me talking about the case we had just finished. He nodding in understanding and something told me that a part of him truly understood what I was saying, but the other part said that he was just being kind. I shrugged before mumbling out a brief 'I don't know' before turning to do my closing reports. Silence had fallen over the two of us as we both filled out the forms, every so often my voice would crack the silence to ask a question but then us returning back to the unspoken air. The teammates surrounding us were doing the same thing yet they were moving much faster than I was. By the time I finished, everyone was already sitting around their desks talking. 

"Alright, Priest, you are coming with us." Prentiss had motioned for me to stand up once I had finished filling out the report and I obliged with a curious look. My lips opened to ask where we were going but she had cut me off before I could get a single syllable out. "It is tradition that the new agent comes to have drinks with us after their first day."

I glanced down at my watch to see the hands hovering over the 12:03 mark before looking at my co-workers like they were crazy. Everyone threw on their coats whilst I asked them if they ever slept, to which they responded with a prompt no, before Emily laced her arm through mine to pull me along with them. I was getting pulled around a lot on my first day. The six of us, Hotchner and Garcia included, had piled into the elevator with the conversations running a million miles a minute. I looked over at the man towering beside me who had the hints of a smile on his face while he joined in. Spencer was beside me with his fingers wrapped around the tan strap of his bag with his cardigan hanging over the top of it. The feel of my gaze had caused him to look down at me with a smile before the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors hissed open. I followed my teammates into the lobby and out into the street where the night had taken over. It was cool, much like it was in Royal, with the trees waving slightly with the wind. The conversations mixed with the heavy clacking of shoes clicking against damp asphalt puddles filled the air as we slowly walked to our cars. I had no idea where we were going, but my teammates had been so locked in conversation that I feared they would forget to tell me. 

"Mind telling me where we are going before we leave?" Garcia looked back at me with a grin, like always, before telling me that we would be going to a bar in town called 'Rafters'. It had been labeled at the best bar in town and it was where they always bring the new person on their first day, or just where they find themselves at on their nights off. Morgan had given me directions on how to get there from the FBI building in case I got lost behind them before we all said our brief goodbyes before piling into our own separate cars. 

My fingers wrapped tightly around the leather steering wheel of my 2003 deep blue Jeep Grand Cherokee as I attempted to will myself back to being awake enough to enjoy this night. Yes, I was exhausted and nearly on the brink of passing out, but I wanted to enjoy tonight and get to know my new coworkers so I couldn't be the lame one who backed out of what they called a tradition. Slapping my face lightly, I turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot to follow closely behind what I could only assume was Garcia from the blonde hair I could see through their back window.

Rafters was 15 minutes and 23 seconds away. The road was bumpy and lined with potholes once we got into the city that the FBI building was just outside of, but the tired sleep that was forming around my eyes caused me to not care. I pulled into an empty parking spot along the road before turning the key and removing it from the ignition. I watched as the team in front of me all poured out of their cars with smiles hinting on their face as they waited for me at the front door. My shoulders fell with a heavy sigh before I stepped out of my car and met them. Morgan held open the door for us as we entered the cute establishment. I took in the sight before me and realized that it was exactly what I thought 6 FBI agents would go to after a long day.

It was a typical college bar. Sticky barstools lined an equally as sticky bar that had empty beer glasses sitting in front of drunk older gentlemen with bloodshot eyes and fruity drinks sitting in front of feminine bodies. My gaze followed the bar to the back wall that had high tables and chairs with a dart board hanging above a shelf that had two half full beer glasses. A dimly lit hallway led to the bathrooms that were no doubt filled with grafitti and strangers hooking up against the less than sanitary bathroom walls. Booths lined the right side of the bar where a couple with their fingers interlocked across the table sat while the rest were empty. Empty peanut shells littered the floor as the customers continued to throw them as they snacked. They crunched underneath my feet and gave my step a slight wobble as I followed the team to the back of the bar where there was an extra dart board. Morgan grabbed the set of darts, his eyes dragging across the faces of his teammates in search of a worthy opponent, before falling on me with a lazy grin. I couldn't argue so I just grabbed my three out of his warm hands while the rest of my coworkers sat in the hightop tables beside us.

"You owe me a drink when I kick your ass." My smart remark had resulted in a chorus of laughs and ooh's within our group as they sent Hotchner to get the drinks. Derek just gave me a nod and a shake of the head. He threw the first darts as I stood back with my eyes trained on his form and the way he released the darts from his tight grip. The way he was moving his arm and the trajectory where he released them would never amount to a perfect score, but it was nice to let him try. Hotch returned and passed around the beers with an extra on the side for when Morgan was done. I casually sipped on mine while the man finished his last shot. My eyes fell to the board where he had an almost perfect score. The man turned to me with a cocky grin to which I responded, "Great. But not perfect."

"Wow! I'm wounded, really." He fake clutched his heart as he fell into the seat where I just stood up from. I chuckled before giving a brief explanation on how to get a perfect score in darts and how to angle your arm to release the dart at the perfect time, allowing a perfect trajectory for it to land on or near the bullseye. After my very detailed explanation on how I will beat Derek Morgan at his own game, he laughed. "Holy shit. Spencer, I have found your perfect match." 

Silence overtook the team members sitting at the tables beside me as I acted out what I had previously stated. My first dart landing directly on the bullseye had caused Emily to shake Morgan's shoulders while he just shook his head. He never got a bullseye. He got close, but never made it. My remaining two had followed suit of my first one, landing just beside each other on the vibrant red dot that marked bullseye, and I turned to bow in the direction of my coworkers. I was welcomed with a parade of claps as I made my way to the seat next to Derek Morgan and threw my arm over his shoulder.

"It's okay, kiddo. You'll get them next time. I'll take that drink now though. Whiskey on the rocks." He pulled himself from the stool with a lopsided grin and started in the direction of the bar at the front of the establishment. Garcia had filled the spot next to me and eagerly asked if everything I had mumbled off about getting the perfect score was true but Spencer had answered for me with a short yes before going into a drawn out speech himself about how many people think that darts is just a game of luck, his words stumbling out of his mouth like a blathering baby. His arms stayed close to his side as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible with his hands wrapped tightly around the cool glass of beer that now had sweat dripping down the sides and onto his skin. He never met anyones eye as he was speaking. "Hey, Reid, slow down. Let loose. I have known you for a total of twelve hours, and you haven't slowed down since."

"Oh, honey, he is always like that. Get used to it." Emily had informed me that Spencer's awkward demeanor and quick rambling was a common occurrence in which I just kindly laughed before reaching out to grab my whiskey from Derek's hand like a baby grabbing for a bottle. Whiskey was my go to drink and while I wasn't even planning on buying anything or even going to a bar tonight, I will never turn down a free one. I took a sip of the liquid slowly and relished in the way the warmth spread through my throat and into the bottom of my stomach, warming my entire body as it went down. "Alright, put that drink down. We didn't come here so you can kick Derek's ass in a game of darts."

Hesitantly and with furrowed eyebrows, I set the small glass back on the table as I turned in my seat to face the table where everyone else had already sat down. 

"It's fine, we just want to know a little about you. We do it with all the new recruits so calm down. We aren't going to ask you anything bad." Garcia had refuted that statement and said that when she first started, they asked questions she would not repeat outside of this room. I couldn't help but laugh at what she said before taking another sip of my drink while Emily asked the first question that came to mind. "Where are you from?"

"Wow, you're digging deep, aren't you?" My tone dripped in sarcasm as I set the glass back down. "I was born in New York City, stayed there until I was 18 then went to college and now I'm here." 

New York City was the place I called home, where my heart still resided despite now living in Virginia, and I sometimes reminisce on how my friends would pull me along to explore the city despite knowing it like the back of our hands. My eyes watched as sweat beads began to form along the rim of the glass while my mind was lost in the memories of the city that ran through my mind on an almost nightly basis. I shook my head slightly before turning my gaze to those surrounding me. They were all lost in thought as they were searching for the next question that they should ask.

"What, uh, what made you want to work at the BAU?" Spencer's voice reached above the volume of the bar, his hazel eyes meeting mine as I looked in the direction of the stumbling voice, while I thought about my answer. It was a number of things that pushed me in this career direction but one thing stood above the rest. It was something deeply personal that I was unsure I was ready to tell the group yet. I pulled the inside of my bottom lip between my teeth as I came up with an answer that would pass until I felt like I could tell them about what happened. My fingers ran along the rim of my glass of whiskey in front of me. 

"The same reason everyone does - because they want to help people. I have had too many things happen in my life where I didn't have a say or where I couldn't help anyone that needed it. I wanted to change that." He didn't fully believe my answer. His eyebrows had twitched slightly in a raise before falling and his eyes held the curiosity that said he wanted to dig more into what happened that caused me to want this career but he didn't dig any further. Neither did anyone else. The rest of the night went smoothly. Soon after that question, they dropped the game of getting to know me and had just fallen into discussing their most interesting cases. I could only listen in on what they had experienced throughout their years of working at the BAU. It continued for what seemed like hours before I glanced at the time to see that it was 2 in the morning. "Guys, as much as I enjoyed this, I need to be getting home."

It was like we all had forgotten that we were expected back at work tomorrow, Hotchner included who had drunk plenty already. His eyes were glazed over and part of me feared if he would make home alright. Morgan had offered to drive anyone who needed it home because he had only had a beer or two and Hotch was the only one who took him up on that offer. Everyone else had barely had anything to drink as they had sipped on only a glass throughout the night and had figured they were safe enough to drive home. With that, we had all poured out into the parking lot while I began my walk towards my vehicle parked along the side of the road. I had given my teammates a brief goodbye before pulling my door open and getting inside. My key wasn't put in the ignition right away though. I took my time and watched as my new coworkers had all gotten into their respective cars with a smile on their faces and laughter ripping through their throats. I think I was going to have fun here. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so with the cases, i am not going to go in order unless it is something important that takes multiple episodes. like with the first two chapters, it involved 4x19 but with this chapter, it will involve 4x22.
> 
> also i know that the way i put the seats inside the jet isn't how they actually are but just imagine it is a little bit bigger so that the seats i said could fit in there.
> 
> i am also going to try and take my time with their relationship but i am also taking into account that they see each other every single day just about all day and they are in the line of work where they get closer than just about anyone so it will probably move faster than I like.

Pain killers followed by an ice cold water chaser had followed me into the FBI building the next morning. My head sported a pair of black Ray-bans to shield my eyes from the blinding luminescent lights throughout the building. I stepped into the elevator with a hidden annoyance at the incessant hissing and clunking the metal made anytime it opened stopped to open it's doors. Arriving at the BAU floor had been somewhat of a God send with knowing that those who I had accompanied would be feeling the same way. Out of the group, I was the one who drank the least but I have been known to not hold my alcohol well so I knew this was what I would be met with when the sun peeked through my windows.

My fingers gripped the handle and pulled open the clean glass door as I made the unwise decision to remove my sunglasses. It was unprofessional. Spencer Reid was already here. His long arms were crossed on his desk with his head settled on them as he was resting his eyes, and no doubt trying to will his hangover out of his mind, and he jumped slightly when the thump of me placing my painkillers on his desk had reached him. His eyes were dull and bags had formed but once he noticed my act of kindness, he had given me a lopsided smile before indulging in the pain relief. I dropped my go-bag at my desk before leaving the aching man to his own devices to get a fresh cup of coffee.

Morgan looked up from his steaming mug when he heard my footsteps and gave me an oddly bright smile. His face wasn't scrunched with pain and his fingers weren't resting on his temples to try and alleviate what would be a numbing hangover. A gasp had left my lips and my mouth hung agape once I realized that he wasn't plagued with the unwanted feeling of being hungover after last night.

"How?" My fingers wrapped around an empty mug and I poured the piping hot coffee into the cup while I faced the man.

"Guess I am just blessed with a high alcohol tolerance, baby." I shook my head with playful annoyance before adding some creamer to my coffee. Morgan not being hungover shouldn't surprise me. The man screams all night parties with kegs in every room.

The rest of the team had piled in over the next couple of minutes with their expressions matching that of Spencer and me. If Hotch was hungover though, which I was pretty sure he was given that Morgan had to drive him home, he wasn't showing it. JJ had given us a look when she walked by with a thick case folder full of information and we all took that as a sign to follow closely behind her into the briefing room that I had already grown comfortable with despite it only being my second day.

Multiple sheets have paper had been placed at each seat that would soon be occupied before JJ had switched the television on to show a paused video of a murder. I took a seat next to Spencer who had been sitting near the edge of the table while everyone turned their attention to watch as a woman had been stabbed in the abdomen.

"Her name was Michelle Watson, a realtor who was murdered last week in Buffalo, New York." JJ has spoke softly when the video had stopped at a close up of the victim's eye that was now showing no signs of life. I could see Garcia put her head in a hand before shaking it slightly. I didn't know how long she had been in this career, but it was more than clear that these had still gotten to her and she had no problem showing it.

"Until yesterday, they had nothing, no leads, and then they got this." Hotchner had interjected JJ to tell us that this was the first thing that could help them get a lead started.

"Buffalo P.D. received it from an unknown source yesterday. It was sent through an encrypted server from the Ukraine though so they were unable to trace it." JJ had started the video over for us to continue to watch it in search of anything that could help us begin our investigation.

"There's no sound." Morgan had made the observation when another video had begun playing.

"Yeah, at first glance, there doesn't seem to be a single frame to identify who shot it. The mirror was even covered up." I spoke quietly as my eyes turned to slits while we watched the video again. Garcia had turned away for a brief second before asking why the unsub would send that video to the police. Prentiss had responded by saying it could have been a little game of catch me if you can, that it could have been a taunt.

Two older people who had been sitting in a car with the doors open had been shown staring directly at the victim, but had given nothing to let us know that they had an idea that they were being filmed. Spencer had brought up that it was probably a hidden camera.

"The witnesses were able to give us enough for a sketch." JJ had given Emily a stack of a police sketch to begin passing down the table. I reached for the stack once it reached Spencer, trying my best to ignore the feeling of our fingers brushing against each other as he handed it to me, before I grabbed my own sketch to pass it off to Morgan. "White male, early 30s, wears glasses."

The recording was still playing silently in the background as we all turned our attention back to what had looked like a suite. Morgan had brought up that it was an editing suite.

"So he not only films the murder, he edits it."

"He wants to make it perfect. What is this that is playing on the monitor, do we know?" My words were short and to the point as the video looked like it was being filmed within the confined space of a closet. Hotchner had spoken up, saying that the local P.D. are worried that it is another filmed killing. "So we are looking at two murders now . . ."

"Buffalo is underfunded, undermanned, and they need our help." My fingers traced along the edge of the paper on the cherry wood desk as Morgan mentioned that Buffalo was a large gang town. This doesn't seem like something a gang would do though. I have never seen an instance when a gang member films the murders and sends them out to be examined. I pursed my lips slightly as my mind ran through anything that could start to help this case when Hotch directed Garcia to do a frame by frame and put everything she could on disks. She had given a brief yes sir before standing to leave the room. "Put together a go-bag. If they get any more of these films, I would you on the ground taking point. Is that okay with you?"

At the mention of accompanying us on the job instead of staying safely within the confines of her computer room, her eyes grew slightly larger. She couldn't say no because Hotch was her boss so she had settled with another yes sir before turning hesitantly around. Once Garcia had left the room, our attention was turned back to the screen as Hotchner had told us that he wanted us to see something. The unsub had started writing on the wall in bright red marker. _Help me._

It wasn't something that you normally saw the unsub say or write. Even I knew that and I had only been working here for two days. My eyebrows furrowed with slight confusion as everyone had slowly moved from their seats to retrieve their go-bags once Hotch had informed us that we would be leaving in thirty minutes. I was the only one left in the room when I moved towards the screen to get a closer look at the 6 words scribbled out in a vibrant red hue. I sighed heavily before turning on my heel to get my own bag from my desk. Spencer had watched me approach our tables with a curious expression laced on my face and was silent as I reached for my duffle bag.

"Um, I am going to, uh, head to the jet early to try and get a h-head start on the case. You know, read more into the files, if you want to join me." Him stumbling over the words had caused a twitch in my lips before I nodded carefully. A blush had crawled its way up his skin and was barely visible underneath the fabric of his milky white button up shirt. His fingers picked anxiously at his deep navy blue cardigan as the two of us threw our bags over our shoulder and began to leave the building. 

We walked to the aircraft in silence, the only noise being our breathing and the clicking of our shoes against the asphalt runway. I had occasionally stolen a glance in Spencer's direction and took notice of how his eyes never stayed watching one spot long. They were always flitting from one area to the next while his fingers fidgeted with the strap of his bag. I would be lying if I didn't find his constant anxious demeanor kind of cute. If this was any other situation and he wasn't my co-worker at the BAU, I would have asked him out for a drink the first time I saw him. But I take it that Hotch doesn't allow work place romances to take place, so I was perfectly fine with keeping my little crush a secret, granted that it doesn't grow into more than school girl feelings. 

"So why do you think that the unsub wrote help me on the wall?" I took a seat in one of the booths, Spencer taking his directly across from me, as we placed our belongings next to us. His thin fingers pulled his copy of the case file out of the tan folders given to us as his hazel eyes ran along the words. "Is he not fully in control?"

"He could feel remorse over his actions. Some murderers do in fact feel emotions but there is something pushing them, pulling them to do these actions, that they can't explain so he could honestly be wanting us to help him." As Spencer spoke, a squeaky yawn had crept its way up my throat and into the open. His eyebrows rose in confusion as he tried to figure out where the mouse like squeak had come from before his lips curled into what could pass as a smile once he realized it came from me. He watched my features for a second with his lips tilted upwards before added voices began to creep into the jet. 

"Hey, guys." Derek had passed us with a questioning expression before settling in the back of the jet, Garcia doing the same thing as she sat next to him. Emily had accompanied JJ by sitting in the booth seat next to Spencer and me while Hotch had sat on the couch. Rossi had ignored the fact that we had went to the jet before everyone else and sat in one of the arm chairs behind JJ and Emily. "You come to get an early start on the case?"

I nodded. Wasn't that obvious? There wasn't anything else going on between the two of us so why would they be so curious as to why we came here before everyone else. My eyes flickered over to Spencer, silently asking what do they mean but he only responded with a shrug. The aircraft rumbled slightly a few moments later before the runway could be seen moving beneath us. Once we got moving, Morgan had mentioned the unsub asking for help as well. Only this time, the rest of the team could hear it. Rossi's answer was similar to that of Spencer's. He had referred to him as something like an alcoholic. The unsub wishes to stop but he can't. 

"When we see him driving, his point of view is elevated. I'd say he is driving a van or an SUV." Morgan had brought up that the unsubs eye sight had fallen higher than most, Emily following that by saying that the film stops where it started which is at the man's house. The idea of tracing the video back street by street to try and find out where the unsub lives had been brought up briefly, with the surrounding teammates nodding in agreement. 

"In this frame, he clearly looks at a clock and it's 9:22." Spencer had carefully moved his copy of the video frame that involves the camera to me. It had a light black and white filter over it with little to no color peeking through the polar opposite hues. 

"The autopsy says that Watson's time of death was around 4:30 in the afternoon, so he had to edit about 7 hours worth of footage." Emily had spoken as she looked around the room. We were all either glancing at one another, continuously looking at the video that was playing across the screen on one of the cabinets, or glancing at the documents they had before them. Hotch had given Garcia brief instructions to look into all of the unsolved murder cases for women in their early thirties who had been stabbed in Buffalo and the surrounding cities, requesting that she go back ten years. The wide eyed doe had softly nodded before clicking away on the laptop she had brought with her. "Wouldn't vicap have already picked up on that?"

"Vicap only went web based about a month ago and Buffalo P.D. only uploaded their data recently." 

"Watson is holding a day planner in the footage. Did they find that at the crime scene?" My eyes watched the video rolling on the screen as I asked the question. Spencer had answered this time and my gaze fell towards him.

"Yeah, that, her wallet, and all of her jewelry including a 3-carat diamond ring." I couldn't help but let out a low whistle.

"Okay, so we know he isn't financially motivated. So what, why go and choose her? Is there any connection?" Before anyone could even begin to answer my question, Garcia had interjected to inform us that she had pulled up the murder cases that he had asked her to retrieve earlier. She had found a total of 22 unsolved cases of women being stabbed in the age range that Watson belonged to. 

We landed an hour later in Buffalo, New York. Local P.D. had met us as the plane landed with freshly washed cruisers to escort us in our sleek black Escalades to their precinct that was just a few short blocks from the airport. Detective Henderson, the lead detective on the case, greeted us as we walked into the building and began to direct us towards where we would be setting up. She was a tall dark skinned woman who poured out confidence as she walked yet when we informed her about the number of cases we had found, she sounded anything but.

"You really think it could be 22 cases?" Her words came out full of wonderment as we walked into where we would set up our case study. Hotchner had told her that we went back ten years and included the surrounding areas. 

"The unsub may be out of his comfort zone. Even if they aren't connected, they match his type with being blonde and in their early thirties." I moved through the small room to sit at an oval shaped table that had fresh coffee on a black tray along with the evidence from the crime scene sealed tightly in ziplock bags. Morgan had told the lead detective that the autopsies will allow us to see which of the cases are connected, and bring us one step closer to finding out who this man really is. Detective Henderson gave an understanding nod before sending one of the officers to retrieve the files. "We also need to take a look at the crime scenes."

"Of course."

"I'll stay and help Reid and Priest." Rossi had spoken from his position in front of the marked up map on a bulletin board. I looked up from pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee at the mention of my name before giving a brief understanding nod in finding out that I would once again be staying at the precinct to do the case study. Hotch was joining Morgan and Prentiss at the crime scenes while Garcia was staying to work the computer. They didn't stay a minute longer. I sat in what was originally Prentiss' seat next to the case files littered across the table and began to comb through them as Rossi spoke with Detective Henderson about whether or not this case was just a one-off. "The filming of his kills makes him a sexual psychopath so this is most definitely not a one-off. There are going to be many more films just like this one." 

Rossi had abandoned his post at the television to move across the room to begin talking about the case while the lead detective was here. I watched from the light colored wood table as he reached for the photograph that was of the vibrant cry for help. 

"Help me is in direct conflict with the psychology of a psychopath, and it's something that I have never seen before." His gaze had fallen to the words on the slick piece of photo paper in his grasp. Rossi slowly moved across the room as he spoke, placing the picture on the table before him while the lead detective hung onto every word that he said. "Psychopaths don't have the capacity to feel empathy towards others. They can mimic it but they can't feel it. This guy is different. He _can_ feel it."

"That he didn't mean it?"

"That, or someone or something is showing him who he really is." I drank my coffee slowly as my eyes drug across the pages and evidence that lay before me while everyone continued to talk about the case. Silence had fallen over the group for only a brief second before Garcia, who had been locked in the laptop as she looked over the film, had spoken up.

"Okay, friends, the video on this film is analog. It's since been digitized, but it is seriously degraded." JJ's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she asked the normally cheerful woman at the laptop what exactly that meant. "This type of degradation can only happen over at least ten years and thousands of repeated viewings . . ."

"it's the only way he can get a release." Rossi had spoken quietly before turning his attention to the lead detective who had come to terms with the fact that our unsub had in fact been doing these killings for the last ten years. Garcia had extended our time frame though by saying that the woman in one of the videos was wearing a sweater that was 20 years old. Henderson nodded as everyone turned to look at the paper that Rossi had begun to speak about. "A name, Robert, was entered on the day of her death at 4 P.M. Her death was around 4:30. Is there anyone connected to her with that name?"

"We couldn't find anything so we think it's an alias." I watched from my seat at the table as Reid leaned over my shoulder to get a closer look at some of the scheduling book before speaking mainly to himself about Michelle Watson's tendencies.

"She was organized, precise, light of hand. So, left handed . . ." His words were almost silent as his fingers thumbed through the pages. His breath hit my bare throat with every syllable, a blush starting to creep its way up my skin as he continued to carefully lean over me to look at the ledger. Henderson watched his actions, asking how he could tell those from the book.

"The hardest point is where she starts, the lightest point is where she tails off. In her case, she tails off to the right." I had briefly looked away from the open book before my that had Reid's long fingers running along the page to glance at Henderson as I spoke. A soft 'it's weird' had been mumbled and if it wasn't for the mouth being directly next to my ear, I wouldn't have heard it. "What's weird?"

"I'm not sure, but the number 29 is circled twice in red ink and it tails off to the left." My eyes fell to look at his fingers that pointed at the number that was scribbled into a blank portion of the page. "Whoever wrote that is right handed."

JJ played the film once more and we all noticed how the unsub had written help me in red with his right hand. There has to be a tie to that. Every other name in the ledger was written in black so why is the 29th scribbled in red, and why did the unsub write help me in red marker? My eyes flitted down to my cellphone to check the date and noticed something that caused my breath to stop in my throat. Spencer, who was in the process of standing up from leaning over my body, had stopped briefly as he caught my action. He asked what was wrong which had brought everyone else's attention directly on me

"Both the 29th and the words help me were written in red ink, right? Tomorrow's the 29th. What if the unsub wasn't asking for help for him? What if it was a sort of play to tell us that there is going to be another victim tomorrow?" Rossi quickly directed Garcia to contact Hotch and tell him what I had mentioned. There was no way that this wasn't something that said there was going to be another victim tomorrow. Spencer had finished standing up to move towards the marked up map while JJ got a call from Morgan. It lasted only a few short seconds before she told him thanks and hung up.

"Morgan thinks the unsub's glasses are the camera. You need to get a sketch of the unsub out to every camera shop in Buffalo. If he hunts within a comfort zone, then whichever of these camera shops he visits the most, that's the one he'll live closet to." Henderson nodded before informing the officers on the case what to do, in which they took their own copies of the police sketch and left the room to head to the shops in town. JJ also told that Hotch wants us to focus on the victims found in controlled locations. "Secure areas with little chance of witnesses, and where he left the bodies."

"Okay, based on that, June '98, Emily Flynn found in her apartment. She was stabbed 23 times." Spencer had spoke of a case that hit the criteria as he taped a picture of a fair skinned red head on the clear board that held the other pictures from the crime scene. Another picture of a pale blonde was placed beside it as Rossi said that her name was Hillary Habner and she was stabbed 18 times in March of 2000. Two more cases popped up, each picture of the victims being handed to Reid so he could tape them together. "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have found out time line. It looks like he strikes almost exactly every 12 months." 

I stood slowly from my seat with my warm mug of coffee in hand before moving to look closely at the pictures now taped beside each other. Detective Henderson let out a hint of a gasp and mentioned that there were all these women that he got away with killing. 

"We officially have a serial killer on our hands. I think we need to inform the media now." JJ had spoken up while she stood on the sidelines, glancing around at everyone before messaging Hotchner to inform him that we are going to talk to the media. My fingers ran through my hair before settling two fingers on my bottom lip while I continued to look at the pictures on the wall. "Detective Henderson, if you would follow me and we can get the broadcast set up." 

JJ and the detective left the room and left the remaining four to handle the pictures on the boards. Garcia had returned to dealing with the case on her computer while the rest of us flickered our eyes from the clear glass that held the photos and the bulletin board that housed the scribbled on map. Silence had fallen over us with the only sound heard being the clacking of Garcia's nails on the keys of the laptop.

"Um, I am going to go get something out of the vending machine. Would anyone li-like anything?" Spencer had once more stumbled over his words as he asked his teammates if they wanted anything from the vending machines. Rossi had shook his had, as did Garcia, but I was feeling a little parched and had grown tired of sipping on coffee all morning. I told him that I would join him to get what I wanted because I didn't want to make him pay for my stuff. "It's really, uh, no problem, Nerida. I can get it for you." 

Shaking my head, I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and told him no paying for me and made my way towards the break room. Numerous officers had sat in their with bags forming underneath their eyes and I swallowed tightly. Despite being an agent for the FBI now, I was not a fan of police officers for the same reason that I wanted to become an agent. They were no help at an important time in my life. Spencer noticed my tense shoulders as I faced away from the officers, my eyes locked on the options in the machine.

"You picked an odd career choice." His voice had startled me slightly. I had been too lost in concentration on what I wanted to eat that I had momentarily forgotten he was beside me. My gaze snapped to look at the man who towered over me only a little before raising my eyebrows in a knowing look. 

"Tell me about it." I settled on a small bag of tropical skittles and a can of cool Dr. Pepper. The cash slid into the machine with ease as Spencer moved a little closer to lean down and ask why I felt the way I did towards people like the ones sitting behind us. If we spoke any louder, they would most certainly hear us and I didn't feel like having an entire precinct find out my feelings towards them. "Spence, this isn't the type of place where I want to discuss those feelings . . ."

I moved out of the way for Reid to choose what he wanted while he gave me a polite nod. If he really wanted to know, I would tell him. I don't keep a lot of secrets from my co-workers and given my line of work, it was bound to come out sometime since I surrounded myself with profilers. I watched as Spencer kneeled to pick his drink and food out of the opening of the machine before the two of us began to walk back. Before we left the break room, I carefully reached for the bare skin of Spencer's wrist to hold him back as I made the impulse decision to scribble my cellphone number on a notepad that was lying on an empty table. 

"If you really want to know those feelings, give me a call and I would be willing to explain them." Spencer reached for the paper hesitantly, his eyes searching mine as a sign that I was positive, and when I shoved the ripped piece into his hands, a chuckle had slipped past his lips.

"Okay . . ." I stayed behind only a second to come to terms with the fact that I just gave Spencer Reid, my co-worker, my number. Granted, it was for a reason that wasn't anything other than just him getting to know something about me that I didn't want to discuss on FBI time but still. I gave him my number. Crap. 


	4. Chapter 4

The broadcast went smoothly. JJ had stood off camera and Detective Henderson had given the public the information they deserved to know about the serial killer, the sketch on the right hand side of the screen as she rattled off information, while the rest of us stayed inside the room surrounded by crime scene photos and victims whose murders had yet to be solved. There wasn't much that we could do for now. At least, not until Hotchner and the rest of the team returned back from the crime scene with more information. We had picked through the pictures and the files and now knew them like the back of our hands. We got all the information we could get out of them for now. I sat back at the table with my attention turned towards the bullpen, my fingers slowly getting a small handful of colorful skittles to pop into my mouth as I watched the police officers move around the precinct like ants. Rossi and Spencer had yet to sit down as they were still trying to pull information out of the pictures and Garcia had stopped her typing for a brief moment to try and rub her eyes free from all of the violent videos that had been plaguing her laptop screen. With a heavy sigh, I took a sip of my soda and allowed the caffeine to scratch my throat on the way down.

The sun had started to set by the time Hotchner, Morgan, and Prentiss arrived back at home base. They had found out that our unsub had suffered from obsessive compulsive disorder and that was why the 29 had been circled twice and he stepped over every crack in the sidewalk he had come across. Unfortunately, Hotch had also said that we had peeled what we could out of the information we were given and that we would have to wait until tomorrow to continue our investigation. 

"So, what? We are just going to allow someone to die?" I couldn't help but get a little worked up over them giving up for the night. I went into this job to help people and to save lives, but on my second case, we are allowing another innocent persons life to end because we had nowhere else to turn to in the evidence we had. Rossi had said that we had nothing else to do, that we found out just about all the information we could on the unsub with today's given evidence and facts. We would just have to wait until tomorrows victim was called in. I hid the urge to roll my eyes as the team closed up the case study room and we left the precinct. I followed closely behind my co-workers to a four story hotel that was located two blocks away with my arms shoved deep into the pockets of my FBI raincoat. Spencer had hung back with me to keep me company. "If you want to know about what we talked about, give me time to wind down and then text me. I'll let you know my room number and we can talk." 

I felt his gaze drop down to my frame as we slowly walked in unison a few feet behind our teammates. He said nothing though. We just stayed silent until we walked into the hotel lobby. Our rooms were booked underneath our last name, all separate rooms but on the same floor. I softly told the frail lady sitting behind the desk my last name to which she responded with a kind grin and slid my room key across the freshly cleaned counter. I politely smiled before moving towards the elevator, leaving my teammates to retrieve their keys on their own. They knew that I wasn't happy with how we just left the investigation at a stand still to wait until another victim had appeared but there was nothing any of us could do. I leaned heavily against the railing lining the deep brown reflective walls of the elevator and felt the lift shake with the movements. A few moments later, the doors screeched open to signal that I was on the third floor and I hesitantly dragged myself out of the confined space before making my way towards room 327. The second elevator could be heard hissing open as I slid my keycard into the slot and slipped into the room before whoever came out of the elevator would notice. 

The hotel room was nice. A bed with fresh white sheets tucked underneath it had been pushed to the center of the right wall with a tv on a small light wood entertainment center on the opposite side. Two night tables similar in color had ben positioned on either side of the bed, each one holding a small black lamp that gave the room a yellowish hue. Two large windows were on the wall opposite of the entrance with deep grey curtains closing out the world outside. A small kitchenette had been along the left protruding wall when you first walked in and if you continued walking, there was a door leading into a bathroom with a bathtub/shower combo. With a heavy sigh, I threw my go-bag onto the bed and watched as it bounced before settling. My fingers unzipped the duffle bag slowly and I grabbed my pajamas before retreating to take a much needed shower. 

The water was warm as it pounded against my bare back. My eyes had slowly closed as my head fell back to allow the hot water to wash through my hair and down my body. It was comforting - allowing the steam to fill every crevice of the room to give a hazy look and letting the condensation begin to form along the glass mirror above the sink. I reveled in the feeling for only a moment longer when I squeezed hotel brand shampoo into my hands and massaging it into my scalp. The shower lasted for only a few more minutes longer, the soap rinsing from my hair as I washed the rest of my body before I stepped out into the steam and wiped down my body with a fresh white linen towel. As if on cue, my phone dinged from an unknown number texting me. 

_want me to come over to your room now? this is spencer reid btw_

His texting presence was much different that his presence in person. I quickly messaged him back my room number and told him to give me 5 minutes. With the message sent, I thoroughly brushed my hair and teeth before sliding on my pajamas that consisted of an old tour t-shirt from my college days and black/red plaid pants. My fingers flicked the light switch down as I left the hot bathroom with steam billowing into the chill of the rest of the room. Voices from outside that had poured into my room had brought my mind away from how comfortable the bed looked and I carefully moved to look through the peep hole of my door. Spencer had stood in the hall with damp hair with Morgan beside him.

"Oh, I'm just, uh, looking for the ice machine. I have none in my room." If Morgan found out that Spencer was sneaking off to my room, he would definitely get the wrong impression even if we were just going to talk. I watched through the peephole as Morgan had curiously told Spencer that it was on the other end of the hall and offered to show him where it was. Reid's eyes flickered over to my door for a split second before hesitantly nodding. I sighed quietly before moving away to pour a glass of water from the tap. The water was warm and unsatisfying but it was all I could do until Spencer got rid of Morgan. Five minutes later, a quiet knock had echoed through my room and I leaned on my toes to find Spencer looking around suspiciously with a full bucket of ice. Hesitantly, I opened the door to allow him in and watched as he put the bucket in the freezer so that the ice doesn't melt. I closed the door behind him a little too quickly and he turned around to give me an awkward lopsided smile as he rocked on his heels. "Hi."

His greeting was soft against the hum of the AC and I motioned for him to sit in the chair that was next to unit beside the window. Spencer moved across the room to do so while I took a spot on the bed against the headboard. As soon as both of us had settled into our spot, I had asked him what he wanted to know.

"Why did you really go into the BAU?" That was an obvious question that I should have expected. I knew that he didn't fully believe me when I told everyone that I joined just to save people, and knew that given the chance, he would ask why I really went into the field. My fingers picked at the fraying edges of my pajama pants as I thought. 

"I want to help people . . .?" Spencer cocked his head to the side, his long brown hair falling as he did so, and I smiled before speaking truthfully. "Not many people know this, and I don't want it to get out so I am trusting you. I've known you two days and I'm . . . trusting you."

I couldn't help but chuckle degradingly at myself when I said that. Spencer Reid has been in my life for a total of two days and I was already telling him more than I had told anyone. Spencer gave a kind look and crossed one leg over the other while I went on.

"When I was younger, I had a sister. She was my best friend and I told her everything that happened in my life. When I was eleven, she went missing. She was walking back from high school cause we lived only like a couple blocks from her school but never came home. They stopped looking for her after three days." Spencer hung onto every word I said, his eyes laced with pity. "For months, I went to the police every single day and begged them to do something. They told me that the case was closed and there was nothing that they could do. Then another girl went missing. She had the same features as my sister - black hair, blue eyes, fair skin. They called in the BAU and the guy was found before the day ended. Guess what they found in the process? My sisters body. She had been dead for 26 hours." 

The air had fallen eerily silent as I allowed what happened to my sister process in Spencer's head. After a few moments, I watched his features before making sure it was okay to continue. 

"She was alive. The entire time I was going to the police officers and pleading for them to get out there and look for my sister, she was alive and they had given up after three days. Them finding her body was the turning point. I watched shows that talked about stuff the BAU did, whether it be murderers or kidnappers or anything, and as soon as I turned 16, I started interning at the courthouse. I threw myself into every case file until I was sent off to college and from there, I did what I had to do in order to come work for the BAU. So, to answer your question, I joined because I didn't want what happened to my sister and me to happen to anyone else." 

"Is that why you don't like police officers? Because of what they failed to do?" The chill of the room mixed with the clammy cool sweat coating my hands from discussing sensitive topics had resulted in me sliding myself underneath the thick blanket to hide myself from the gaze of Spencer Reid. He wasn't judging, I knew that. But it was rough talking about something that I haven't talked about in years. I hesitantly nodded at his question.

"That, and remembering that every encounter I have ever had with the police was less than pleasant. Me going to the precinct every day until they found her body had left a bad taste in the mouth of the officers that continued until I left town. They made it a point to make my life a living hell as long as I lived there." The conversation had been lingering on me for a little too long. I understand that Spencer came to my room to talk about me and my experience with officers throughout my life but my shoulders had grown tense and my breathing was growing uneasy. "Okay, no more talking about me. What about you? Any weird things happen in your life?"

"Actually a lot of weird things." Spencer answered the question with an open ended, very vague response, and I moved my hand in a motion to tell him to elaborate if he wanted. He chuckled softly before looking down at his fingers. "When I was younger, I had a friend that my mother had always told me was imaginary. I only recently found out while we were on a case in my hometown that he wasn't. He was an actual kid that was murdered and my family was tied up in the case for years." 

"Oh shit." His lips parted in a teethy polite grin. That was what the rest of our night consisted of; the two of us growing closer than I had ever gotten with anyone. 2 A.M. rolled around and we had come to the conclusion that it would be best for Spencer to return to his room so not to raise any questions if he stayed until the sun came up. I walked him to the door and rested my fingers just above the doorknob as he stood in the hall facing me. "Thanks . . . for coming over. I didn't know if I was ready to talk about it with anyone yet but clearly I was wrong." 

Spencer had awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands shoved tightly in his pockets as his hair fell in front of his eyes that were lit up. His lips were curled into a genuine smile and I watched as he walked back to his room. He had turned to look at me one more time before sliding his key card in and leaving the hall. I licked my lips, pulling my bottom one in between my teeth, as I slowly shut the door behind me to go lay down in my bed. The lamps were shut off and the only light pouring into the room was the street lamps outside mixing with the moonlight slipping between the cracks in the curtain. It wasn't long before sleep had began to take over. 

I woke up a couple hours later to an incessant knocking on my door. The bedside alarm clock shined in vibrant green letters the numbers 7:04 and it hit me that I had overslept. I quickly mumbled out fuck before hurrying into my work clothes and pulling the door open to find the teammates standing in the hallway with a curious look their face. Hotch had looked less than pleased that I had overslept but ignored it when I grabbed my things to follow them out of the building. Morgan had looked at me with his eyebrows raised in suspicion and I didn't miss his eyes flickering between Spencer and me. What was it going to take for him to realize that nothing is going on? Sure, I like Spencer. He is cute and I wouldn't say no if he asked me out in any other circumstance but we are co-workers at the BAU and it isn't hard to find out that they strongly advise against relationships like that. I rolled my eyes when Morgan had turned his attention to the elevator doors that hissed open. 

"There's another body." The three words bounced off the shining walls in the confined space and my gaze shot to Hotch who was watching the numbers light up as we were lowered to the lobby floor. "I'll bring Rossi and Morgan to the scene. The rest of you return to the precinct, see if you can uncover anything else."

I swallowed the urge to roll my eyes again while we stepped off the lift. The entire reason we left yesterday was because he said we couldn't find anything else that we didn't already know. Detective Henderson had already been seated in the lobby and when she heard our footsteps coming out of the elevator, she had rose to greet us. I shook her hand politely before handing the receptionist my room key. We didn't stay in the hotel much longer, Hotch and the members going with him joining Henderson in one of our Escalades while the rest of us walked back to the precinct. Garcia stuck back and walked beside me this time with Spencer leading the pack. I felt her eyes hanging on the way mine flickered between the sidewalk and the man walking in front of JJ and Prentiss who were a few feet ahead.

"Nothing is happening between us, Garcia. You can tell that to Morgan too." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as if she didn't know that I caught the stares that he had been giving Spencer and me. He wasn't being subtle with his curiosity, and neither was she. Garcia subtly brought up the fact that Morgan had caught Spencer outside of my room last night and that he came up with the poor excuse of getting ice despite not having a bucket in his hands. They walked to the ice machine and Spencer had to walk all the way back to his room and then back to the machine to get ice. I felt a blush creep up my skin and stop at the curvature of my chin while I looked at the sidewalk beneath my feet. "Garcia, we just talked about shit. He noticed that I was off around the officers and wanted to know why. I didn't want to tell him in the precinct so I told him in my room."

"Why _are_ you off around police officers?" My eyes flitted to hers in a knowing look and she raised her hands in mock surrender. The matter was dropped after that. Everyone took their spots in the room while my fingers reached for a spare coffee bug to pour myself a fresh cup of steaming hot coffee. I slowly dragged my body to a chair against the wall, pulling one of my legs up to my chest, as I sipped at the pure caffeine with my eyes still looking at the pictures that stay taped to the clear glass board. Prentiss had looked over the files here since she was unable to get a good look at them the previous day. A familiar ding had echoed throughout the room as Prentiss glanced down at her phone to tell us that Hotch had given the profile to the officers on the case and that he directed us to go over the autopsy report once more to see if we could find a reason as to why Watson was only stabbed one time. Garcia had moved closer to the pictures, her hand on her hip as her eyes bounced from victim to victim. "He sure does like his blondes. Not a good date though, too stabby."

"Less so with Michelle Watson and this new victim though."

"Every one of these murders happened during Spring." JJ had moved her head back and forth across the boards that lined the back of the room as she spoke her eyes continuously flitting from picture to picture. "So, Spring for the unsub is the stessor."

"Hey, do you think my video was done in the spring?" Garcia had spoken up quietly and all of our attention had turned to the girl dressed in green. We glanced at each other briefly before nodding. "Okay. Eighties, Spring, Buffalo. Search for a homicide, see if I can make a connection." 

"All of the victims except for Michelle Watson were killed within a year of each other." My voice carried to the other teammates in the room from my position on the chair with my eyes still trained on the victims tapped to the glass board. Emily Prentiss mentioned one of the victims had been stabbed 32 times. "Two years later, Watson was stabbed only once. It wasn't overkill, or rage."

"Yeah, instead on the tape we see signs of remorse." So we were going with the help me being written for him instead of the victims he would be killing. I watched as Spencer began talking about the footage once more as he tried to continue to piece together this investigation like a puzzle. "It was a complete and sudden emotional change. It's fascinating." 

"I love you, Reid, but the stuff you find fascinating is truly sad." Garcia had slightly degraded Spencer's interests while her fingers tapped away on the keys of the keyboard.

"He's right though. A change like this, it's incredibly fascinating and I haven't heard anything like it. This is only my third day, yes, but out of all the cases I read about, nothing has even come close to this." The blonde haired woman tilted her head and raised an eyebrow as if to say that brush my statement off. I tried my best to ignore it by sipping on my mug of coffee now that it had cooled off just enough to where my taste buds wouldn't be burned off and reading the files on the other murders we had been given. A few seconds later, Garcia brought a screencap picture from her footage over to us.

"Looks an awful lot like the women on the board, don't you think?"

"So, he's killing her over and over again." Spencer's voice had ripped me through my trance as I read the files again at the sound of hearing that there was a witness in the Joyce Wolcott murder. It was a little boy, her son. "Neighbours called the police when they heard her son, Stan, screaming."

"Let's see, they were found in the backyard and she was dead." Spencer had moved across the room to stand behind Garcia who had pulled the newspaper article of the Wolcott murder up on her screen. Everyone had followed their gaze to the pair as she read off key-points on her screen, while he did the same with the case file. "If he saw the whole thing, why didn't the unsub kill the only living witness?"

He moved back across the room to stand next Prentiss who had rose from her seat. I stood slowly and moved beside the man to get a good look at the file he had just placed on the elevated portion of the table, eyes dragging across the pages as he flipped through them. The police never interviewed the kid, which was understandable. He was traumatized. JJ asked if he saw the killer but when a discovery came across one of the pages, that notion was shot down. 

"He didn't see anything." I informed the surrounding members that the son was blind. Emily quickly asked Garcia where the boy was currently staying and when the address mentioned was still in Buffalo, a text was sent off to Rossi and Morgan. They would check out the address and ask the child some questions, finding out if he knew anything about our unsub. 

That is what the next few hours consisted of. Every so often, we would receive a message from the members out in the field about new found information that we could pin to the investigation but other than that, we had just been rattling off sentences that we thought could help. It wasn't until we realized that today was the son's birthday, did things really start picking up speed. Morgan had rang Garcia when they reached the foster home of the son once more.

"Morgan, I'm going to need a surname, honey." Garcia spoke fast as her fingers typed at the same speed once Morgan informed her of the name of our unsub. According to the adopted mother, the son had known Vincent for over a year and had been a registered helper in a mentoring program that Stan was in. Derek had attempted to ask the mother if she knew Vincent's last name but came up short when the woman didn't remember. Prentiss brought up that Garcia could cross reference the name 'Vincent' with all of the mentor organizations available in Buffalo. "I think we would get more from the video."

"We are running out of time, Garcia. Come on, we gotta find this kid." Morgan had spoke carefully over the phone to try and get the woman at the computer to hurry up. 

"Trust me, okay? Give me a second . . ." She typed away at the computer and eventually, a newspaper was pulled up on the screen of a murder case from 1983. The woman in the picture had curly blonde hair with a fair complexion and had been murdered by her husband due to her cheating. She was killed in her own home with her son being a witness to the crime. The nine year old son she left behind went by the name Vincent Rowlings. Garcia wouldn't allow anyone to thank her until she pulled up the address. Spencer continued to read off what the news report said, stopping briefly when it was found out that Vincent was believed to have sat with his mothers body for over 24 hours. "His address is 5605 1/2 Pearl Street on the east side. Morgan, tell Hotch that they are on their way."

Reid quickly threw two kevlar vests in the direction of Prentiss and I, patching his together as he did so, before the three of us rushed out of the precinct. The address was a total of 15 minutes away with traffic lights included but with the blinding red and blue flashers that illuminated the buildings in colorful lights as we sped down the street, we got there in 5. Hotch had already stood with his fingers locked on his weapon as we drove up and piled out of the vehicle. My boss told me to stay between him and Prentiss since I had yet to receive my weapon. Prentiss and Reid would cover the back while Hotch would cover the front.

The apartment building was bland and full of dull tan walls covered in cobwebs and unknown stains. We scurried up the empty staircase with our footsteps echoing against the metal with every step before we reached the fifth floor. The hallway was empty but there were sounds pouring into the corridor from the doors leading up to the one that we needed at the end of the hall.

"FBI!" With silence following Hotch's announcement, the cracking sound of splitting wood filled the air after the door was kicked open. We were met with an apartment that could pass the inspection of a drill sergeant. The three teammates that had their weapons raised and fingers resting on the trigger had moved through the rooms in search of the unsub before saying he wasn't here. I slowly moved behind them to a closed door that had the muffled sounds of Garcia's footage playing seeping through the cracks. Hotchner pushed it open with one hand, gun still steadily pointing ahead of him, and inside was an older box television with the murder of Vincent's mother playing. My boss looked at the three of us behind him before calling Garcia. "I need you to conference everybody now."

"Right away, sir." Spencer had carefully moved me out of the way to move towards the television that was still having that scene play out before us, his fingers moving around to find the power button, while Garcia got ahold of the other two members who were out in the field. "Hotch, you've got Rossi and Morgan."

"Stan's foster mother is here." Morgan's voice had crossed the line with urgency. "Stanley is missing and there's blood on the windowsill."

"Kate, did Vincent take Stan out? Was there a favorite place they liked to go?" Hotch's voice was rough against the now silent air surrounding us while he stared at nothing on the ground. His deep black eyebrows were furrowed with frustration while he awaited her response. Rossi's voice had crossed the line too while he added to Hotch's question by asking if there was a park or a playground nearby.

"No, no. The only time I let him see Stan is under this roof where I can keep an eye on him." The woman's voice was rushed as she fought through tears to speak about Vincent's relationship with her adopted son. "When I told him we were moving, he started coming around more often. I told him that about a week ago and he has been here almost every day since."

JJ's voice came across the speaker phone next as we moved around the room to look for anything that could give us any indication on where Vincent could have taken Stan. Michelle Watson was killed over a week ago. That was the stressor that triggered the behavior change. There was a scratched metal shelf that was pushed beside the television set that held numerous notebooks. My fingers reached out slowly to grab an open page that had the number 29 scribbled all over the page.

"Kate, there is a notebook here with the number 29 written with a circle around it multiple times." I addressed the foster mother as I passed the notebook off to Hotchner who had placed the cellphone on the table. "Today is the 29th. The circle could represent a specific location. Can you think of anything? They would have talked about it, or he might have even taken him there before."

I did my best to speak as calmly as possible so not to agitate the mother. Having a missing child was something that my family was too close with and I knew that saying the wrong thing or speaking in the wrong tone could blow everything up, no matter how much the parents want to find their child. Everyone else had piggybacked off my question by asking Kate some of Stan's favorite things and hobbies. All he liked to do was build. Vincent used to help her son build the construction sets. Morgan had mentioned that there was a ferris wheel that had been built over the last couple of months. 

"Garcia, check to see if there are any theme parks in Buffalo and the surrounding areas. It doesn't matter if they are permanent or just visiting." Morgan addressed Garcia while everyone had resulted to surrounding Hotch who had put the notebook down to pick the phone back up. There was a theme park located just outside of buffalo in Kenmore that had a large ferris wheel. "Let's go. We'll meet you there."

The line went dead after that. Hotch had turned to the three of us that stood around him with a stern expression.

"Reid, Prentiss, you both go. Priest, we are staying here in case he comes back. You don't have a weapon on you and this is a time sensitive case so we cannot afford to have someone look after you until you get one." Reid's eyes flashed over to mine for a split second before he followed Prentiss out of the apartment building. I would be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by Aaron Hotchner. If I had the choice between sitting alone in a room with him or being out in the field without a weapon to protect me, I would choose the latter. But here I was now sitting on a messy couch while Hotch sat at a double screened desk.

Hotch turned the computer on only to find the same footage that we have been watching on repeat for the last two days. One screen had the pictures of the victim's faces, while the other had played the homemade videos and my eyes couldn't help but flinch at the sight that lay before me. I had watched these videos more times then I could count but it never got easier watching the life drain from these victim's eyes at such close proximity. I turned my attention away from the screens and instead anxiously awaited the news that they had caught Vincent and taken him into police custody. 

The call didn't come for nearly an hour and a half. My phone rang and within seconds, I picked it up to hear Spencer's voice coming across the line and I couldn't ignore the feeling of relief that washed over my body when I heard that nobody had gotten hurt. Hotch glanced over at my form that had leaned forward to place the phone on the table with my teammates on speaker phone. 

"Stan is back with his mother. Vincent was dead by the time we got there. He had shoved two pieces of balled up bread and used that to clog the wounds as best he could. They fell out at some point and he bled out on the ferris wheel." My hands rubbed across my face at the news that the child was safe. Hotchner had thanked Spencer for telling us the results before informing him to meet us at the jet. We would be heading back tonight. "Okay. I will let everyone know." 

Paranoia had settled in a small part of my body as I tried to ignore the fact that Hotch had now realized that Spencer had my cellphone number. The remaining parts had attempted to tell me that it was normal for co-workers in this field. With a heavy sigh, I brushed those thoughts away and followed my boss out of the apartment that would soon be turned over to the local police. We had took our time driving to the precinct to grab everyone's things before saying goodbye to Detective Henderson who had walked us to our car. With a polite smile, we pulled away from the Buffalo P.D.

"I am not going to ask why you have Reid's cellphone number after only working for the BAU for a couple of days. I will tell you that it has been brought to my attention that the two of you have been paying close attention to each other in times where you shouldn't." I attempted to interrupt Hotch to tell him that there was honestly nothing going on between Spencer and me - that he just wanted to know some things about my life and why I acted the way I did and that was it. "Agent Priest, I shouldn't need to tell you that relationships in that fashion between co-workers is prohibited."

"No, sir, that won't be necessary. I already understand. That is why I am trying to tell you that nothing is going on. I swear." Hotchner glanced over at me with another stern look as we pulled up to the clean white jet thats staircase was already on the floor awaiting our arrival. The conversation was dropped when we exited the car. Hotchner grabbed most of the bags while I grabbed Garcia's laptop bag, Spencer's go-bag, and mine. Everyone had decided to make it a point to confront me about my growing friendship with Spencer Reid as if they thought it would become something more despite me already running the fact that it was strongly advised against in any career to not have a relationship with anyone you work with. As I made my way towards the back of the jet, I handed Garcia her laptop bag and Spencer his light brown go-bag while ignoring the hazel gaze. I took the only open seat available and leaned back to close my eyes to try and get the ride back to go as quickly as possible. I wanted to get back to the report done and get back to my apartment to avoid any other possible confrontations with my co-workers. 


	5. Chapter 5

Cracking sounds echoed throughout the nearly empty bullpen as I stretched back in my chair with my arms reaching high. It had been just over three weeks since I started and every day had been just like my first two cases, some just a little bit worse than the rest. A groan had slipped past my lips as my body moved back to the normal position of leaning over my now cluttered desk as I filled out reports. I had been in the chair for the last three hours. Hotchner had requested that I come in early to receive my holster and weapon since I was finally able to carry, the weight sitting on my hip at an awkward angle, as I awaited the remaining teammates arrival. 

_coffee?_

My phone dinged and my eyes flickered to read the text that had come across the screen. Spencer had messaged me when the elevator doors hissed open and before I had the chance to respond, a tall tan to-go cup of what carried the strong smell of freshly brewed coffee was put on my desk. My eyes dragged from the drink to find Spencer Reid moving to sit in his own desk with the hint of a smile playing at his lips. 

"Thank you. The coffee here does just not do enough sometimes." Spencer and I had grown closer over the last few weeks, the discussion that had carried well into the night in Buffalo resulting in us texting each other late at night whenever we couldn't sleep. Those late night messages caused us to call each other and stay on the line until one of us fell asleep. We tried our best to hide how close we had become, not wanting a repeat of that second day in Buffalo. Today was an exception though - a celebration that I was finally able to protect myself in the field. I gave a satisfying moan when the coffee hit my tastebuds. 

The remaining teammates had filed into the BAU at 7 AM with tiredness evident in the way the bags hung underneath their multicolored eyes and their movements while we poured into the conference room to discuss today's case. A video came across the screen of a man running his car into one of the border guard post between the Canada/Michigan line. After a few moments of a patrol officer searching and pulling what looked like numerous pictures out of the car, the driver was cuffed with his gaze situated on the street camera.

"His name's William Hightower. He made claims that he has picked 10 people off the streets of Detroit, and killed them before dumping their bodies across the border in Canada." Emily had asked if the suspect had given up the dumpsite but we were told that he would only talk to the FBI. 

"Is there even any confirmation that these people are missing?" I spoke from my spot between Hotch and Rossi. JJ glanced over at me before nodding and telling us that two were reported missing by their families months ago, but that they all appear to be transients. Information was hard to find on them. 

"Garcia?" That was all Hotch needed to say to the women dressed in a colorful pink, white, and black dress before she grabbed her things and retreated to her bat cave where she would research all she could on the victims. Morgan had asked if there was any information we had on the guy who was still on the screen. "Until 2 months ago, he was a sergeant in the army and did two tours in Iraq. Lost his leg in a roadside ambush. He was discharged with a purple heart afterwards and a commendation for Valor."

"And the Royal Canadian Mounted Police are requesting our help?" Spencer spoke from across the table with his fingers moving from his chin to the foam cup in front of him. 

"They don't have a lot of choice." JJ had asked why would the suspect choose now to crash the guard post after murdering numerous victims over the span of the last month. Prentiss had responded with stating that it could be an attempted suicide, but my nose scrunched in slight disagreement as I sipped on my coffee. "It could be a case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Derek Morgan asked the question that hung stealthily in the air - do we think he is legit? There were too many bodies to take chances. After the briefing was finished, we grabbed our bags and did the normal routine of going to the jet that was awaiting our arrival. Everyone took their seats with the files being spread across the tables with a light red tint once more as we took off. 

"He documented them all in detail . . ." My voice was soft against the light roar of the engine. Morgan had sat next to me with Prentiss and Reid sitting on the other side of the booth table looking at their own copies of files. Rossi had sat in the armchair next to where we were positioned as he listened in and took part. "Names, photos, dates, he has everything here, even the locations."

"With a military background, he is bound to be organized." Morgan's voice was louder and more stern than mine. I turned my gaze briefly to the files in front of him before returning to comb through the photographs in front of me. It didn't seem like there was any consistency in their looks or their behaviors. My eyes flickered from each sheet to look at the abduction site and realized that was the only thing that each case had in common. "What do we know about the abduction site?"

"It's called the Cass Corridor. It's right here." Spencer had stood slightly to circle a certain point on the map that was in the middle of the table. His light brown hair shook as in front of his gaze as he did so and part of me wondered if he could even see where he was circling from it. "It has an extremely high concentration of drug trafficking, prostitution, and homeless."

I couldn't ignore the far off look in Reid's eyes as he sat back down in his chair, his lips being pulled into his mouth as quietly gnawed on them while everyone else continued to talk about the case. I couldn't ask him if he was okay in front of everyone without raising suspicion once more so it was brushed off. 

"Maybe it's more about opportunity than victimology." I turned my gaze towards the area on the pat that Spencer had circled, my voice reaching the surrounding ears as I spoke. "If you were going to commit a crime, do it in a place like this were people don't really pay a lot of attention to it." 

Hotch had informed Morgan and Prentiss to head straight to Detroit from his position in a recliner a few feet behind us. He wanted them to see if they could hear anyone talking about what is going on, see if they know anything. We wanted to make sure there was an actual crime here before we delved too deep. Everyone else would be making their way to the legal attaché before meeting with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. JJ had told my boss though that the officer in charge said that his team had been apart of a fellowship that the BAU gave to train police in profiling. Rossi reached for the paper that JJ had been holding before his lips curled up into a tiny smile. 

"Jeff Bedwell." It wasn't hard to figure out that Rossi had previously known the man whom he had just said. He was in the BAU much longer than we had been and had been in this line of career prior to his return. Morgan asked the man sitting in the chair beside us if Bedwell was any good at his job. "He had better be. I trained him." 

We landed in Detroit a short hour later, Morgan and Prentiss getting in their own vehicle to drive towards Cass Corridor while the rest of us piled into our own company car and headed towards the precinct. With Spencer taking the very back seat, I took this as an opportunity to ask him if he was okay. A soft vibration had carried through the vehicle and I did my best not to look back at Reid as he read my message.

_i'm fine._

Okay. That was short and straight to the point. His two worded message made my head turn to glance back at him to find my closest friend watching the buildings pass with a dull look in his eyes. I pursed my lips but ignored the topic while we approached the building. Rossi approached Jeff Bedwell who had moved out of his office with a bright look in his eyes, a smile etched across his face as the two old friends greeted each other. I had become increasingly aware of the added weight on my hip as soon as we entered the building.

"Jeff Bedwell, Agents Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, and Nerida Priest." Bedwell looked to be a kind man. He was tall with a small belly poking over his black belt buckle with his white shirt tucked into his freshly ironed black pants. A shiny gold badge was attacked to the hem of his pants. The man extended his hand to shake ours as David Rossi introduced us, my eyes falling to look over the numerous cops sitting at their desks or walking about the building. None of them gave us a second glance. Jeff Bedwell thanked us for coming while he began to direct us towards the conference room where we would be set up. He had already set up the victim board and timelines set up on the monitors. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge." I glanced at Spencer Reid with raised eyebrows as I took a sip of my coffee that was now almost empty. We both ignored the man that Rossi had once known to set our things down on the long oval shaped table before we moved closer to the screen that had the pictures of the victims along with the information. JJ told Hotch that she was going to contact Garcia to see if she had any luck with locating the family members of the people on the screen. 

"Tell her to check records for multiple border crosses." The blonde haired thin lady nodded before stepping outside of the conference room with her phone in hand. I crossed my arms across my chest as my eyes moved from picture to picture. The suspect said that he had killed 10 people in the span of a month and they were all up here.

"Do you believe that he killed all of these people?" Spencer's voice had brought me back into the conference room as I turned my attention to the man who stood beside me. Jeff Bedwell said that all the victims fit the profile from where he stood in the corner of the room. "How so?"

"He got a recent physical trauma, could be a stressor. Wide disparity of victims. No bodies, possible border cross. Two entirely different terrains. To pull that off, you'd have to be smart." Wow. I mumbled from beside Spencer that the guy must have paid attention in class and my lips curled into the hint of a smile when I noticed the pink creeping up his skin as he tried to swallow a small chuckle.

"It looks as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again." I quickly spoke up while moving away from Reid to get the attention away from him, the eyes of Hotch being all to evident as they were felt along our spine. He didn't hear what I had said to my friend, but his stern gaze was enough to make it seem like he did. "At the moment, that tells us nothing, but it's a start."

"Has he contacted any family?" Rossi asked Jeff the question, curious when the response was no and that the suspect has been refusing a lawyer. "He's in interrogation?"

"Yep. Waiting for us." Hotchner and Rossi shared a silent yet knowing look as the room fell eerily quiet. In a room with FBI agents, a silent room is never good and goosebumps grew on my skin in the short period of time where they didn't say anything. 

"This guy is U.S. Army, and he demanded to talk to the FBI. He's not going to want to talk to anyone but the person he thinks is in charge." Jeff understood what Rossi was saying and said that he would take Hotchner to the suspect. The pair left the room with Rossi staying with Reid and I, JJ still outside on the phone. It had only been a few minutes when Hotchner had returned from the room. He didn't question him, just stood on the other side of the window and let William know that we were here. He had walked in hanging up his phone to tell Rossi that they were ready to talk to the suspect. "You two stay here." 

The room fell silent when they left as Spencer walked back up to the screen. I stayed at the table with my fingers running along the files but the nagging sight of Spencer tensing at him mentioning that this man had been targeting drug dealers and users. My heavy sigh had caused his shoulders to fall. He knew what I was going to ask. 

"Neri, I am fine. Please drop it." He didn't want me to keep poking and prodding at the elephant in the room. My mind kept running back to the look in his eyes on the plane and in the car but if he truly didn't want me to talk about it, I wouldn't. We had become close enough to where there wasn't really anything that we kept from each other and if this was one of the things he didn't want to talk about, then we wouldn't. I would leave it. "Let's just get back to the case."

We never really strayed from it. I just sighed heavily and we dropped what I was going to ask before I had the chance to do so. The only thing I could do was nod solemnly and return my attention back to the files that lay before me.

Rossi and Hotch returned a half hour later, telling us that the William really wanted us to continue investigating the cases which had struck curiosity in me. We were directed to sit down at the round table as JJ returned from standing outside when Hotch pulled out a flip phone and played a voice recording of one of the victims asking for William's help. He was taking her somewhere but the recording shut off afterwards. 

"The signal cuts out after that." The phone clipped shut as Hotch placed it on the table in front of him.

"This is the same night she left her mom's house?" Spencer asked.

"Hightower called in an army favor. The call was triangulated to a cell tower just over the border in Port Huron." Hotch explained the whereabouts of where the call was made and Rossi said that the location explained why he crossed into Jeff's jurisdiction. 

"It's also a surefire way to get the FBI involved." My fingers messed with a pencil absentmindedly as I spoke. All eyes turned to me as I sat at the end of the oval table. "He knew that we would investigate an American citizen being held on multiple murder chargers."

Jeff asked if we believed the William, him obviously holding some doubt in his mind, but Hotch had said that there was no reason for us not to. Before we could dive more into the topic of trust, his phone rang with Garcia calling to inform us of some news that she had found.

"Good news and bad news. I have I.D.'s on multiple border crosses for the dates in question, but the trouble is, I have hundreds, if not thousands." Our shoulders fell in momentary defeat as she continued to tell us things that she discovered. "As far as I can tell, if your license doesn't ping for any prior felonies, you're pretty much gonna pass go and collect 200 Canadian dollars." 

"She's right." Bedwell interjected. Part of me questioned why he didn't bring this up when Hotch told JJ to tell Garcia to check. "It's the busiest cross in North America. Lot of commercial traffic, trucks mostly."

"He has virtually free passage then." The anxious ticking of my fingers stopped as I turned my attention to the map of Ontario behind us on the television. My coffee was empty as was the pot on the counter and I was left with nothing to drink. I wasn't entirely sure I needed another cup of coffee though with my nerves running as wild as they are. "Once he crosses, he has nothing but woods to hide whatever he's doing."

Hotchner and Rossi shared a silent look for the second time today before telling Bedwell that they needed to discuss a certain matter in private and walked out of the room. The three of us turned to look at each other with furrowed eyebrows. My empty stomach gurgled against the quiet air and JJ glanced at me for a second as she pulled her phone out to contact people. Spencer had offered to get me food from the break room and I took him up on that offer once more. We left JJ to herself in the conference room to continue her part of the job while we made our way towards where we assumed the break room was. 

"How do you like having your own weapon now?" Spencer didn't stumble over his words around me as much anymore. That stopped when our phone calls became a nightly ritual and it was only when certain topics were brought up that his anxiety began to take over. My fingers grazed over the holster on my hip when we reached the room. I mumbled that it was weird as I reached for a vibrant red apple in a pile of freshly washed fruit. I had never really been a fan of guns but it was something that I had to get used to when I made the decision that I wanted to work for the FBI. Spencer was silent as he slid change into the drink machine, allowing me to choose whatever I wanted, and I pushed the button for a blue Powerade before sliding my own money in. I told him to pick but he had started shaking his head. "Neri, you didn't have to do that. I am not that thirsty, really."

"I know you're thirsty because you keep licking your lips and swallowing heavily. Now, Spencer Reid, if you do not pick a drink from this machine, I will never call you at night again." He raised his hands in surrender with a smile on his face and moved to get his own drink. I knew that the phone calls were his favorite part of night because they were mine too. Reid bent down to grab his drink before giving me a cheeky smile while we headed back to the conference room. This is not good. When we arrived back in the room, JJ had just hung up her phone as we took our seats at the table. "How's it going?"

"The majority of people on the street aren't even from Detroit and we don't have last names for most of them, no hometowns. Unless there is a missing person's report on file somewhere, it's almost impossible." Spencer set his drink down while he opened up one of the files. I tried my best to stay quiet as I took a large bite out of the juicy red apple in my hand, my eyes running over a separate case file while JJ looked at her laptop.

"Most of these people's families gave up on seeing them a long time ago." 

"A mother would never give up, not if her kid is missing." A slight cold ran through my body at that sentence with my shoulders tensing up. Spencer caught sight of this, slowly positioning one of his elbows to touch the bare skin of my arm resting on the table, and I glanced over at him with cautious eyes. The look he gave me told me that he understood. "Can you hand me William Hightower's arrest report?"

I reached for the report that was resting on top of most of the files and handed it to JJ. She didn't stay in the room too much longer after that and then it was down to the two of us in the room by ourselves. I know Spencer wanted to make sure that I was okay with JJ's statement but before he could get a word out, his phone rang with Garcia calling. 

"Sherlock, this is Watson. I think I've got something." The way she addressed people never failed to make me smile no matter the circumstances. Rossi entered the room a moment later when Garcia started talking about the crime reports for Detroit. Spencer's arm moved away from mine when we noticed the added presence. "Derek and Emily thought that there might be some sorts of assaults or disturbances in Detroit having to do with our unsub. On 5 of the abduction nights, there was a break-in or robbery at some type of medical facility."

"What types?"

"We got blood bank, medical supply company, the red cross -" Spencer cut her off before she could continue. 

"Is he stealing narcotics?" Garcia had given a heavy sigh across the line and you could tell that she had shook her head while continuing.

"He isn't some drugstore cowboy. He took stuff like anesthesia, and uh, sterilizing equipment and syringe." He wasn't taking narcotics at all. My eyes flicked up to meet Rossi's who had furrowed his eyebrows. I asked the woman on the phone where these locations were located and listened as she typed away on her computer in search of the address. "Putnam street, St. Antione, East Hancock, Martin Luther King Blvd."

"Those are all in the Cass Corridor . . ." Spencer brought up that they were located where the drug trafficking and prostitution were. The older gentleman in the room asked if we could get a list of the items that our unsub stole. It was equipment that sounded like the suspect would be performing surgery in their own home. "Garcia, thanks a lot."

"You don't just randomly know how to hook a line up to an infusion pump, or that O-neg is the only safe blood type for any victim." I brought that up to my teammates who sat at the table with me once the line went dead. It sounded like he was setting it up to torture them, fix them up, and then torture them some more. This was how he got off. Spencer said that he would call Hotch to let him know what we think he is doing with them and stepped away from the room.

We stood in front of the precinct fifteen minutes later, telling the officers who sat staring at us with a fully immersed expression the profile of our victim. He was a sexual sadist and we believed that he got gratification by keeping his victims alive while he tortured them. His list of stolen items made us think that he had a medical background and thus, we told the officers to check the disciplinary files at hospitals, med schools, and community health organizations in town. His behavior would be noticed. While most medical practitioners would be drained from their work day, he would be the one full of energy and egging his co-workers on to go get a drink and talk about their day. He is extremely smart and organized since he has been able to abduct victims with no witnesses. Once the profile was given, Bedwell informed his officers that if they had any questions come up to ask him or any of the agents in the building. 

William began to stand from his seat with groans slipping past his lips before he noticed the mother coming into the room. She was a frail dark skinned woman who moved at a slow pace. The two embraced each other and she made sure that the man was okay before moving towards the front of the room where the monitor still held the pictures of the missing victims on the screen. 

"All these people are missing?" Her voice was too kind and it was easy to see that all she wanted to do was make the world a nicer place. She asked us if we had any possible suspects to which Rossi gave a brief no, telling her that we have a strategy to try and catch him with William helping. "My daughter. Is there a chance that she might still be alive?"

"It's possible." Lee's mother ran her fingers along her picture on the screen. Her voice was quiet as she hesitantly asked Hotch if we knew what the unsub was doing to the missing people. Everyone fell silent, unsure of what to say. We didn't want to tell her that he was getting sexual pleasure out of hurting the people he takes. "It is difficult to say at the moment." 

By the time we had given the profile and Hotch had brought William to Morgan and Prentiss at another precinct in town, night had fallen. Rossi, Reid, JJ, and I had stayed with Bedwell in the conference room we had originally set up in as the man sat down to ask us if we really thought that another person would be abducted tonight.

"It's coming soon - tonight, tomorrow. He sticks to a tight cycle so he has to." The main question that had to be asked though was why he was alternating the victims, and why he had even decided to take the men at all. "Sexual sadists don't care whether they are male or female. They think of the torture itself as the sex."

"Wouldn't it be much easier to approach a prostitute?" JJ was right. A prostitute is more likely to get into a car of someone that they don't know. They are victims that he can isolate easily with no witnesses. Rossi asked Jeff if William's mother was still here and when we found out that she was resting in his office, JJ was sent to talk to her in order to find out everything we can about her daughter. We needed to find out how the unsub had drawn the male victims away from the pack. It wasn't long before JJ came back and said that Lee went missing when she went to cash a welfare check on the 2nd. That information allowed Spencer to piece together that each other had gone missing when they went to cash their own check. "You think he has a way to get them alone based on how they cash their checks?"

"And then the rest of the month he resorts to picking up prostitutes." That would explain the pattern. 

"We need to find out how they cash their checks." Rossi and Spencer pulled out their phones, Reid calling Morgan to see if he can find out how the people on the streets are cashing their checks with Rossi calling Garcia to see if Lee's checks had ever been cashed. It had been cashed at a lodge in the Cass Corridor. We had later found out that another woman on the street had gone to cash her check at the same lodge that Lee used and when Hotch arrived there with the rest of the team that was out in the field, the receptionist had said that she cashed the check and got into the car of the dealer that everyone uses. Bedwell passed a picture of the younger lady around as well as informed the officers the type of car that we were looking for. Border Patrol was to search through every car that even remotely matched that description. We all piled into one of the FBI issued SUVs parked outside and went to go wait at the Canadian line in case the unsub passed through. 

We had been sitting there for an hour and a half before we finally realized that they weren't coming this way. Every car had been checked just about from front to back and nothing had shown up as suspicious. The off-road sites had yet to hear or see anything either. There were no former shipping lanes that had been marked. There was nothing documented about them.

"What about the underground railroad?" William had been silent up until now. His head had lifted from staring at his feet to meeting our eyes when he mtinoed the passage that helped get slaves into free territory. "In the Civil War, Detroit was the last stop for a slave before they escaped to Canada. They made the crossing in this area."

Jeff had mentioned that despite William being right, there were no historical landmarks that register the crossing points. 

"They built a series of Victorian homes along the river for safe passage, right?" Morgan had asked William if he statement was right and when he received a nod, he continued with his hunch. "Some of those homes might still exist." 

Hotchner had called Garcia to see if she could cross-reference Civil War maps with Victorian homes in the Port Huron area. Out of the entire area, there had only been one that was still holding strong. It was located 3 miles south of the blue water bridge. Within seconds, Hotch had received the GPS map of the home and directed Prentiss and William to join him whilst the remaining agents would wait at the border in case we needed to move mobile. We watched as the three entered one of our SUVs before pulling off in the direction of the home. We stood patiently near the cars as the agents continued to search through cars that matched the description of the vehicle we were searching for just in case he was delayed in his trip. It didn't take long for them to contact us with an address that we were told to meet them at. That is where the unsub was thought to be staying and taking his victims to. 

It was an older farm house, a long light dirt road leading up to a yard that held the overwhelming odor of pigs with the oinking echoing through the trees. I was still patching my deep blue Kevlar bulletproof vest on as we met at the front of one of the cars. 

"You 4 take the exterior, we'll take the house." Hotchner directed Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, and I to scour the outside in search of the unsub while the rest of us took the inside. My fingers slowly lifted the weight of my weapon out of the holster and turned the safety off while following my teammates throughout the yard. We approached a barn that had very little light slipping through the spaces in the wood and our guns were raised to eye level as Morgan pushed the door open. We swept through the barn only to find a surgical table covered in deep red blood and counters filled with the equipment that the man had stollen from numerous stores. 

"We're in the right place . . ." My voice was hesitant as Morgan walked over to me, his weapon lowering only slightly before we went to check outside of the barn. Rossi had gone inside the building to see if the rest of the team had any luck while the three of us moved closer to the pin along the side of the barn that held large faded pink pigs. Their incessant oinking had become muffled anytime they shoved their noses into the muddy ground they walked on and it was a wonder that I heard what sounded like a faint scream in the distance. "Did you guys hear that?" 

"What?" Morgan and Prentiss walked over to me with their flashlights shining into the land surrounding us. 

"Was that a scream?" A few second passed while we stayed silent just in case it was heard again but nothing had come across except the chirping of crickets. "I don't even know what direction it came from."

"Another reason I hate woods - messes with the sound." When we came up with nothing else, the sound had been forgotten about as Morgan walked over to what looked like a large wooden storage container. His blinding flashlight had shined on a point near the edge that had a bloody handprint on the edge. My fingers reached for the edge of it that wasn't contaminated and the sight inside was enough for my body to run cold. "Oh my god. Priest, go get Hotch."

I left Morgan and Prentiss behind as I ran towards the house where Rossi and Hotchner had been standing with an annoyed expression. When they noticed my arrival, they stopped whatever conversation they were having and stepped off the porch with creaks on every step. 

"The box - next to the pig pen. It's filled with bloody shoes. They're all different sizes, male and female." At the mention of the more evidence, Rossi had stepped inside briefly to grab the remaining teammates as well as Bedwell before returning to the porch. Bedwell shut his eyes and shook his head. Whatever was in that house had resulted in him questioning our ability to find the right suspect and what I just told him had apparently set him straight again. "We said we were looking for 10? There has to be at least a hundred pairs of shoes in that thing."

I led the team to where Morgan and Prentiss stood awaiting their arrival. The box had been fully opened this time, both lids pushed up with the dusty bloody shoes being visible from the added light, and Bedwell walked up to see how many pairs there were. The officer couldn't help but ask where the bodies were when he saw the pairs.

"I don't think there's going to be any bodies, guys." I turned to look at Spencer who had his attention on the pigs that let out an order that would make anyone gag. Everyone's gaze had fallen on the messy animals in the pin that continued to snort and oink with every step. "Pigs are omnivores. They'll eat anything. By anything, I mean . . . anything." 

The man was feeding the bodies to the pigs once he was finished with them and keeping the shoes as a souvenir. Prentiss went to deal with William who had been waiting at the front of the house with handcuffs on him. Bedwell had been getting ready to take him back into custody and this information had told him that William wasn't the suspect we were looking for, despite us already telling him that. Rossi had returned from stepping off to the side with his old acquaintance and informed us that he had called the Ontario police and that every officer was on the way. 

"Did you guys find anyone in the house?" I spoke from my spot between Hotch and Spencer, eyes still trained on the pigs moving around in front of us with a twist in my stomach that wouldn't go away. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. It was no secret to me that pigs ate anything that you put in front of them and I should've realized that when we found a box full of empty shoes but no trace of a body. 

"Mason Turner." Morgan asked if the man who had been in the house was put into custody yet. I moved my gaze from the pigs to the door window that had given me a scratchy view into the house where I could see a man bedridden with an expression that was anything less than friendly. "No, but he isn't going anywhere. The man's quadriplegic."

When Derek had given a quizzical look, Reid elaborated that Turner was paralyzed from the neck down but that JJ was in there with him anyways. Morgan mentioned that it was a pretty good criminal defense which then caused Rossi to leave the location to talk with the man inside the house.

"Morgan, do you have the contact number for the Detroit detective?" Derek had moved his body to face Hotch now, one of his shoulders falling lower than the other as he stood at an odd angle, and nodded. "We are going to need their open missing so we can make some identifications on this property."

Derek nodded slowly and stepped away to call the detective he had been with for the majority of the day. My boss turned his attention to Spencer and me who had been standing beside each other with our eyes glancing over at the pigs every so often. There was a laptop inside the home next to the man's bed and it was believed to be Turner's sole communications device. Hotchner had called up Garcia almost immediately after saying that to tell her she needed to get to Ontario as soon as possible while Spencer had briefly licked his lips as he looked around. He looked nervous, eyes never settling on one spot for too long, and his breathing had picked up slightly. He had licked his lips two more times in the span of one minute. His hands were shoved into his pockets and it was very clear that something about this situation made him anxious. 

"Reid, I want you to go talk to Bedwell and get a warrant to search the laptop in the house." His head had shot up from looking at the ground beneath his feet as his orders and turned on his heels to head to the officer that stood off to the side. The air around my boss had fallen silent as he looked at the pigs moving around in the pin. "Priest, how long do you think it takes to . . ."

He didn't need to finish his question. The way his eyes had been looking at the animals had given it away. 

"Depending on the size and condition when it's placed in the pin, it wouldn't be quick. Why?" 

"That means Kelly wasn't put in there." I assumed that Kelly had been the girl that went missing tonight. The name wasn't familiar and I was either too worked up in the files at the precinct, or they had just never told me her name. Hotch was right though. If the woman had been put into the pin, there would still be evidence of her body in there. It hadn't been that long since she was taken. "She is still here somewhere."

The faint sound of sirens had echoed throughout the surrounding woods as numerous police cars pulled into the dirt driveway. Bedwell had returned with Spencer after being on the phone with the judge, telling us that he will sign the warrant for the laptop in the morning which should be around the time Garcia joins us, and JJ joined us. Search and Rescue would also be joining us. 

"When this hits the press, the families of the missing are going to come rushing out here. I'm going to need some uniformed officers to assist me." JJ had pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail as she approached the front of the barn where everyone had been corralled into a circle. Bedwell obliged and directed her towards some of the officers near the house to get them set up. 

Hotch told Morgan and me to supervise the evidence collection, as he didn't think techs had seen anything like this before. We were about to head towards the box of shoes when Rossi showed up with a framed picture of a larger man in overalls. It was Turner's brother and was apparently crazy, according Mason. He had been responsible for getting these women and killing them and Mason had claimed that he was a victim himself. The brother's whereabouts were unknown though along with any places that he could have taken the missing victim. 

"Reid, Lucas is your assignment. Go through his room, his things, anything that might tell us where he is." Rossi had stopped Reid before he went, a hand placed loosely on his bicep as he told us that Mason warned him that his brother is extremely psychotic and stronger than the average man. "Prentiss, have JJ get the picture and the description to the press when they get here. They are going to work for us. Nobody is going to be able to miss a man that big."

* * *

The investigation led well into morning. The techs had moved the pigs away from the pin as best we could for the techs to comb through the mud and waste in search of anything that could help. Morgan and I hung around them until the first sign of sunlight began to peak through the trees, our attention bouncing from the actions going on inside the dirt to the rows of bloody shoes caked in blood lined on a rich blue tarp. The detective that he had been with yesterday had pulled up and I told Morgan I was okay here so he could go talk to her. 

"Agent Priest?" A muffled voice had torn my gaze from the 89 pairs of shoes to the tech in a hazmat suit motioning me over to the pile of mud they had raked up. I told Morgan to join me in seeing what they had found. It was small but the shape and chain had been enough to tell us that William's sister was no longer alive. The tech wiped down the dog tags before handing them to Morgan who had taken up giving them to William. He had left to go join Prentiss on the search party afterwards. I watched as William squeezed the metal in his tight grip with tears streaming down my face and it was enough to have memories wash up that I wish I didn't have. My fingers balled at my side as I left the open space and entered the barn where it was nothing but silence.

My situation growing up had been too similar to this case. Yes, there wasn't someone feeding bodies to pigs but my sister had still gone missing and was murdered. Bottled up feelings of anger and frustration had gotten the worst of me, my feet violently kicking at the tires of the tan car parked in the middle of the barn. 

"Neri?" Spencer was the only one who called me that and when I looked up at him with teary eyes, he had hoped down from his place above me with childlike pictures in his hands. I couldn't do this. I couldn't get too involved and freak out like this while we were on a case but part of me couldn't help but tip over the edge. Reid approached me with careful hands placed on my shoulders. "What's up? Are you okay?" 

The question had pushed me over once more and I couldn't help but reach out to pull his thin body into my grasp while my tears stained his shoulder. He was hesitant to wrap his arms around me but after a few seconds of realizing that this was what I needed, he had embraced me in a caring manner with his hands rubbing my arms. Spencer knew my connection to this case. He was the only one that did. William had been so adamant on finding his missing sister that he had admitted to the murders just to get us down there to look for her. Reid's embrace had calmed my nerves down, my tears finally stopping, but I didn't want to let go. His chin resting on my head with his arms around me had given me a feeling of security and comfort that I never wanted to get rid of. It wasn't until footsteps had been heard outside and the creaking of the barn door opening had caused me to jump away from him before kneeling behind the truck out of sight. It didn't matter who was going to step through that door. I couldn't explain why I had been crying and why Spencer's shoulder was soaked with my tears with admitting what had happened to me. 

"Everything okay in here?" Hotch's voice had carried through the nearly empty barn and when his footsteps drew closer to my position, Spencer had moved towards him so he wouldn't see the top of my head. 

"Yeah, I found out where he sleeps." Our boss had asked if he thought that Mason was lying about not seeing his brother a lot. Mason had said that Lucas only came around once in a while and slept on his couch, that he didn't have a room, but that was obviously not the case. "It's hard to believe that he didn't know his brother was living in his barn."

"Find anything that's going to help us find him?" Spencer shook his head but said that he highly doubted that Lucas had been psychotic. The drawings had suggested autism or moderate mental retardation. Psychosis and retardation had been exceedingly rare in most cases so it's more likely that Lucas doesn't understand what he is doing. "Anything to suggest a violent nature?"

"Nothing in the drawings, but they do suggest that someone's been watching him. He seems to be very childlike and I think that when we find him, he's going to be scared and possibly confused." Hotch had faltered in his step before turning to leave the barn but Reid had stopped him before doing so. "Do you ever get the feeling that a case isn't going to end well?" 

Hotch did not like that question. His response had come in the form of a snap before quickly turning to leave the barn. Once the door had shut behind him, I came out from behind the truck and saw Spencer staring at his feet. 

"Spence, I have to get back out there before they start looking. I'm okay." My sniffling had turned his attention to me and I noticed the same far off look in his eyes. That's what had been his issue since we landed. "Are you okay?"

His nose twitched slightly when he nodded. If he wouldn't talk to me about this even after I heard that he had a feeling about this case, then I couldn't do anything but stand by and make sure that he wouldn't break like I did. I doubt that he would though. He had been in this line of work far longer than I had and he had gotten used to not showing emotion in the field. I took careful steps behind him as we left the barn. Thankfully, nobody had been paying attention so we approached Hotch and Rossi who had just informed the man that they were doing experiments on the victims. They had been trying to heal Mason.

"Stem cell harvesting? The equipment is far too unsophisticated. There's no way that it would work, no matter how many experiments they performed." I tried my hardest to speak fast so not to raise any suspicion to the light sniffling I hid with every sentence. Rossi asked Hotch who had previously been a prosecutor if there was anyway that we could convict the quadriplegic who had never laid a finger on any of his victims. Hotch had pushed it away by saying that we needed to worry about Kelly before the other things right now and walked away. "He might get away with this."

Rossi had followed Hotchner away from the barn and I turned my attention back to Spencer who had remained silent. I wasn't going to ask him what was wrong again, that would get me nowhere. But I was going to stand by him until he told me to leave or unless I was directed otherwise. When Garcia began to call for Rossi in the house, the two of us took off to see if anything had been found. A frail voice of a young woman had been coming through the speakers. Kelly had gotten Lucas' cellphone and called the number hooked up to the laptop. The call didn't last long though when screaming had been heard. 

"Garcia, can you trace the call?" 

"Yes, I'm hooked into the system. I should be able to - got it! It's just west of here, half a mile." Rossi didn't think that the information had been enough though, asking if there was anything else she could tell us, but the only other thing she had found was that it was in the woods. 

"Get those coordinates to my phone, Morgan's, and Prentiss'. Rossi, Reid, Priest, let's go." Hotch's voice was borderline frantic as the four of us ran out of the house and into one of the parked cars. Rossi took the driver's seat while Hotch was in the passenger, Reid and I taking the middle row. He was still eerily quiet with his dull eyes watching the road in front of us while Hotchner directed David where to go. My fingers reached across the space between us to pull his pinky into my grasp as a silent way to tell him that it was going to be alright, that we were going to find Kelly and the case wasn't going to end badly. I released it from my hand after a tight squeeze when we pulled up to the scene. The signal location was empty. The bloodhounds pulling the police officers throughout the woods had yet to pick up on a scent and we couldn't find anything to tell us where they went. "Kelly!"

"Guys!" Spencer had brushed off a faded wooden door leading down to an undergrown room. The door had been pulled open and the name of the missing girl had been called out once more, this time a response coming from the corner of the room with dirt walls. Hotchner climbed down with his weapons raised and Prentiss soon following while the remaining agents stayed above land. The young woman had climbed out of the room with dried tears on her face, fresh ones starting to fall when numerous shots rang out. I watched as Kelly cried out as the man who had kidnapped her was killed a few feet away from her.

A small part wondered why she had been crying for the death of a man who was going to kill her, but it was evident when I remembered that Lucas had been autistic. Anyone who spent a few moments alone with him could figure out that he didn't know what he was doing and that would make anyone with a conscious feel at least a little bit of remorse to his death. My eyes tore away from the scene of Kelly running to her mother who had just arrived to see Spencer standing away from everyone.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to ask if you are okay. I have finally learned that this falls underneath our section of things we don't talk about." I didn't need to be a profiler to see that the look Spencer gave me when he noticed I was walking towards him told me that he didn't me to bring up his mental health right now, but it helped. "Just wanted to know if you wanted to get coffee when we landed, after the closing reports and everything."

"Raincheck?" I knew he wouldn't say yes, but it was a way to get him to stop thinking about what took place behind me even if it was for a brief second. 

"Of course." The next two days were our scheduled off days so even I was true with wanting to get coffee with Reid, I could reschedule for one of those. 

We didn't stay too much longer. Rossi had said goodbye to Bedwell and then the eight of us were off towards the airport where the FBI jet had awaited our arrival. The ride back to the BAU was short and anything but sweet with a silence falling over everyone like a suffocating blanket. There was no talking on the way back like most times, no meaningful conversation that at least one person would have with another. Just everyone lost in their own world with headphones on or their eyes closed to try and block out the events of the last two and a half days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was originally going to break this chapter up into two parts like i normally do with episodes but decided against it. i know that this chapter, neri and spence were closer than the other ones and closer than most people put characters after 5 chapters but this takes place a month after she starts there so. 
> 
> \--
> 
> also i think i am going to slow down with updating this story because i have been uploading every day and i am starting to hit a block yikes. anyways hope you are liking the story. the writing will get better eventually, just need to get back in the swing of writing.


	6. Chapter 6

Today was supposed to be our day off. It was going to be filled with sleeping in late and catching up all the recordings that had started to pile up on my DVR while curling up on my couch in a thick heavy blanket. But then we were called to a crime scene. There was no calling into the BAU conference room to brief us on a case. We had just been told to head straight to where the crime scene was. According to JJ, it was urgent.

I pulled up to where yellow caution tape shined brightly as the morning sun reflected off it, sliding my sunglasses on to try and hide the exhaustion bags forming under my eyes while I walked up to where Morgan stood with Emily and Rossi. We began to move inside the apartment building when they noticed my arrival. 

"Oh, you guys are already here." JJ had walked by the entrance to the apartment littered with officers, her phone sliding into her pocket when she noticed us walking through the door. Spencer had previously arrived with his hands already elbow deep in the case file that he had been handed. An older dark skinned gentleman had approached us with weery eyes. "You guys remember Detective Walker?"

No.

"Thanks for being here." Walker extended his hand to shake ours before telling us that he understood that we hadn't received much rest since returning back from Ontario. Rossi brought our attention to the bloody figure on the ground with a yellow tarp draped over the body. Dark bloody fingers poked out of edge. I crouched from where I stood, slowly moving the tarp up to get a good look at the victim's face, before looking up at Walker. "His name is Nelson Martinez, and from what we can figure out, he answered his door, forced into the apartment at gunpoint, and then shot in the chest. Pretty sloppy." 

Morgan had asked the question that all of us had been wondering since we got here. Why did they need us? It seemed like the most basic of cases and nothing that a serial killer would do. So why had we been called in early that morning on little to no sleep on such a simple act of aggression? 

"A local doctor named Tom Barton found a note addressed to him at the hospital a couple days ago. It said the person was planning to kill his son." Standing slowly, I glanced at my teammates whose eyebrows had been raised. Spencer had passed the note over to me once I slid on pale blue gloves while I stepped over the body to take a seat next to him. "Said if Barton tried to keep his boy hidden, one person would die every day in his place."

"The note is signed L.C. That's written next to the body here as well." Walker mentioned that the vicim yesterday had L.C. written in faded white chalk on the ground. It wasn't uncommon for a killer to leave their own special mark at the crime scene. Some would leave marks such as this one or would take certain things just so the police would know that who it was. "Now, unless Dr. Barton puts his son in harms way, we are going to keep having a victim a day." 

My eyes bounced across the teammates here and noticed we were short by one tall towering figure. Hotch had yet to arrive. I looked over to JJ to see if she had an answer as to why our boss wasn't here at the scene and she had assumed his cellphone is on vibrate because he isn't answering her calls. Rossi told her to try him again, that he could meet us at Barton's home address, and then we left the apartment building. It had been odd not having the stern gaze of Aaron Hotchner watching our every move from the very beginning but I had to remember that he would just meet us at Barton's. 

The home was nice. It was a two story single garage house with red brick on the bottom level and a light tan covering the second floor exterior. Despite JJ leaving a voicemail for Hotch to meet at as the Barton residence, the only car that was in the driveway when we arrived was a civilian vehicle. He had yet to show up. A feeling had settled in the pit of my stomach and I wondered if this was what Spencer was feeling yesterday in Canada. I followed my team into the home with my stomach turned upside down with worry. 

"Dr. Barton, where is your son right now?" Rossi had asked the man who was dressed in a light blue button down and slacks with a dark brown belt. He leaned against a table in his living room with his arms crossed against his chest and eyes laced with worry over the safety of his son. His gaze flickered up towards the upper level of his home. 

"I asked him to stay up in his room." JJ asked if the man had told his son anything that was going on, that the safety and wellbeing of his family was at jeopardy. He was hesitant in his answer as if he couldn't remember what he had said before speaking up. "I told him that there was a threat against me at the hospital. I told him the police didn't take it seriously but that they wanted me to stay home for a few days just in case."

"What about Jeffrey's mother?" I had stood along the side of the group with my eyes dragging across the framed pictures of the Barton family on the numerous surfaces around the house. The doctor looked at me before giving a heavy sigh. She had died when Jeffrey was ten years old due to breast cancer. "Would someone want to hurt Jeffrey? 2 people are dead already."

"If I don't let Jeffrey out of the house, another person is going to die?" Our silence had given him all he needed to know. He could either risk the life of his son to save those of strangers, or keep his son locked away in his house until we caught the person who was doing these killings. "My son is 15 years old. I cannot put him in danger."

"Dr. Barton, we are not asking you to. If you were willing, we couldn't even have him go to school with the fact that he would endanger every student in the building." The only thing that we could do was start to build the profile and find out how this person fits into the life of Dr. Barton and his son. He obviously couldn't think of anyone that would want to inflict harm upon his teenage son. "Whoever wrote that note was making it personal. They were putting you on notice. He wants you to remember who he is, and until that happens, he hasn't accomplished what he is out to do."

Morgan asked Tom Barton if he had known anyone with the initials L.C. but the doctor had said that there was nobody with those initials anywhere in his planners or files. He couldn't remember if he had noticed anyone watching him at his home or the hospital, and if he had any patients that fit the profile of the murder victims. His excuse had been he had patients every day of all demographics and couldn't remember. Rossi told the doctor that we would need records of all of the surgeries that Barton had performed recently. JJ stepped off to the side to contact Garcia to see if she could get the list with Prentiss following closely behind. 

A cellphone ringing had brought my attention back to the doctor in front of us who had just answered his phone. 

"Jeffrey?" At the sound of the son's name, Morgan took off upstairs in search of the kid but had come up short with the window open. The call was short and full of the father repeatedly asking Jeffrey where he was and if he was okay. Derek moved back into the living room as Barton continued to try and get his son back to his home, voice frantic and full of worry, but when his phone call ended without him saying goodbye, we knew that the son wouldn't budge. "He's at school."

Morgan and Rossi shared a look before JJ joined them in leaving the home, Tom following with Prentiss hot on his heels. Reid and I stayed in the living room. He had called Garcia on his cellphone to check her progress on finding out the doctor's patients while I took a seat next to him on the deep black leather couch with my eyes reading the file on the table before him. From him telling her to confine the list to the last 6 months, I take it that there had been too many procedures to go off of. 

"Can you get the full medical charts?" His voice raised at the end of his question as if he wasn't sure that getting full medical charts was something that Garcia could do. I had been here just over a month and even I knew she could get anything that she wanted with the equipment she had. I stifled a laugh but turned my attention away from the files when he had asked her if Hotch had checked in. "No, he's not. He's probably on his way though."

Prentiss stepped back into the living room with Tom while Spencer had ended the phone call with Garcia. After learning that our computer woman back in Quantico was sending over the medical files, Barton had said that he could've just had his office send them over but we quickly told him that it would be much faster for Garcia to do so. Prentiss and Tom moved into the office that was extended off the living room while Reid took some papers out of the file I was currently looking in. 

"We have to dig through your life, figure out why this is happening." My voice carried through the large rooms and gave an echoing sound as if they were empty despite all the furniture around us. Prentiss printed off the medical charts as soon as they came through while we explained why we needed everything there is to know about his life and Jeffrey's. That was a lot of charts. Once they were all printed off, they were organized into different piles while Prentiss and Tom took seats in the armchairs on either side of the coffee table in front of us. "We should start on the note. First off, we know he's male."

"How can you be sure?" Tom had looked over at me after rubbing his eyes with his face scrunched into a curious expression, doubting my ability to tell the gender of the unsub by just the writing. It was a simple way of looking at what is included in the letter. Males and females have a very different style of writing, even on the computer. 

"The writing style. Women tend to add adjectives, and specific details to their notes. This has none of those. Males are also more direct." I pointed out the first sentence of the note. "He starts with his plan to kill your son, no beating around the bush there. Their notes also tend to be more about themselves than the person they are writing to. Using I a lot."

"We know he surveilled you and your son with means that he either has enough money to be away from a regular job or he's currently unemployed." Spencer began to piggy back off my words by starting to talk about how the unsub is able to watch Tom's family for extended periods of time. Prentiss joined in as well and told him that he was most likely a father since he was directing it towards his son. My eyebrows furrowed at that and I began to search through the files for a younger patient that could have ended badly.

"We need to start looking at the cases that involve teenagers being killed. He could be directing his grieving towards you in order to make you feel the same way he is right now. We can also look at anything with a strong family presence. Just because Jeffrey is fifteen, that doesn't mean that his child is the same age. " Tom had asked if we had encountered a lot of cases like this and when Prentiss had said they dealt with a few, he asked how they ended. The answer wasn't the right one he was looking for because he then quickly became agitated and started talking about how there was no way we could get through these files by the time that Jeffrey gets out of school. 

"We need more eyes. I can get to Hotch's and get back within a half an hour? He could help look through them." She didn't wait to hear our response and had already began to leave the house with the keys in hand. Tom brought up that the note hadn't said that Jeffrey wasn't going to be killed today and that it had said 'today, tomorrow, or the next day'. His next question had been to see how long we would be around to make sure that his son stayed safe. Reid pursed his lips before telling him that we should get through today first before talking about that. 

"I can't close my eyes without seeing these cases now." I mumbled when Tom left the room to get a drink of water. Spencer had chuckled as I rubbed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder. It hadn't been the first time that I had done that. Our late night talks would sometimes result in me falling asleep on his shoulders while he sat on my couch throughout the night. When that happened, he never asked me to move. He always sat in the same position until I woke up. It was comforting whenever I fell asleep on his shoulder to know that even when I woke up, he would still be there. Some nights, he would slowly move my head down to settle in his lap while he threw my blanket that hung over the side of my couch over me so that I wouldn't get cold. On the other nights, he would just stay in the same position and deal with the aching back as we walked into work the next day. "Do you think Hotch is okay?"

I felt Spencer's head move to look down at me and I knew that he had the notion that I had the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that he had yesterday. It wasn't like Hotchner to not show up to work and then not answer all of the texts and phone calls that had been sent to his phone. He would barely let it ring twice before he pulled it out of his pocket to answer it. Tom's footsteps were heard echoing throughout the hall and I slowly pushed myself from putting my weight onto Spencer. My phone that had been sitting on the table in front of us had began to ring when the father walked back into the room and a look of worry had flashed across his face. Spencer and I shared a knowing glance before I answered it. 

"Hey, you get him?" Emily's voice was frantic and full of panic as she told me that Hotch wasn't at his apartment. His keys, phone, and weapon had been sitting on the table but there was glass and a pile of blood on his carpet. My breathing picked up slowly as she told me that Garcia was sending all the available FBI techs to the scene and that an APB was being put out. I could tell Spencer but that was it. Nobody else could know - it would take attention away from this case and we couldn't have that. 

"What's going on? Is it about Jeffrey?" Barton's voice rose with every syllable, becoming increasingly more aggitated the more I stayed on the phone. Spencer had told him quietly that it was an unrelated phone call which didn't help his anger. I tried my best to concentrate on the words that Emily had been saying but the closer that the doctor got, the more I drew my full attention to what was going on in front of me. By the time his words had turned into screams, Spencer had stood in front of me to block his path in case he had gotten violent. "What could be more important than my son right now?"

"I assure, this will only take a second." Tom shook his head begrudgingly and threw the files he held in his grasp onto the table, storming out of the room as he spewed words of profanity. Spencer took his leave of absence as a sign for him to finally sit back down next to me while Prentiss began to inform me of numerous things that had been wrong in Hotch's apartment like a gaping gunshot in the wall. Blood had been stained into his carpet despite there not being anything on the walls or any tissue spray. My hand shot out to pull Spencer's into my grasp when she had mentioned blood and his eyes searched my face for anything that could tell him what was coming through my phone. "Bureau techs are on the way?" 

"Any second now." I told her to write down everything that she sees in the apartment and we will profile her notes when she gets back. She had asked on the status of Dr. Barton and when I told her that it was a long list of cases to go through with him, she said that we didn't need to worry about what was going on at Hotch's apartment and to just worry about this case we were on. The call had ended after that and I turned to Spencer to explain to him that Hotch was missing. 

"There was blood on the floor but nothing to indicate that he was dragged out. Techs are on the way. She wants us to stick here and continue to look through these cases. She can handle everything there." He didn't say anything in response, just called Dr. Barton back into the room. Hearing that Emily had been called away on another emergency had caused the father to grow angry again while he paced around the room. "I'm confident that the three of us can get through these cases in enough time. We know he's been killing hispanic males as surrogates. Did you separate the case files?" 

Tom gave an aggravated sigh before pointing towards a pile of 82 surgeries on the table. That was how many fit the criteria we had said. He had operated on other patients on 75 of those dates. Tom's unforgiving eyes had moved from the papers on the table to my hand that had been holding Spencer's on the couch between us and I retracted it almost immediately upon realizing it. I had been too caught up in the idea of our supervisor missing and possibly bleeding out to stop holding Reid's hand when Barton returned. 

"Did any of those patients die on the table?" Spencer's voice was smooth as he tried his best to take the mans attention away from the fact that we had been knocked down to three people going through the cases instead of what was supposed to be 5. Tom shook his head as he thought back before mentioning that 11 of those 75 people had died on the table. "Okay, that is where we start. It's all about choice. He's forcing you to play God with your son. The last time you had a choice, the decision you made devastated him."

Barton tried to shake that off by saying that he was a doctor and that it his job to save people. But to the families of the patients on the table that doesn't matter. They want to know that the doctors that have their families life in their hands would do anything to save them.

"That is irrelevant to the families. What matters to them is that you had an alternative and you didn't take it." Tom moved to take a seat now, his fingers ringing through his light gray hair while we continued to discuss his patients. "How many of those patients were under 20?"

"6. We get a lot of shootings, but most are gang related." He had never been threatened by a member of the gangs though. Most of the time when someone is told that the patient has passed away it is followed by confusion and devastation. 

"Okay, so there's 6 dates where you operated on a hispanic male on the same night that a patient under 20 died. Agent Reid is going to read you the names and dates and we need you to tell us if you can remember anything. Can you do that?" Barton nodded while Spencer began to rattle off names and dates. His face had remained expressionless with each name but he had tried to give up after 4 names. He was getting to the point where he thought that what we were doing was useless and it wouldn't help. "Can you think of anyone who had asked about your family?"

Tom had looked back at the clock that was continuously counting down the seconds until his son had gotten out of school and we reassured him that we had plenty of time. My mind kept running back towards how Emily was doing at Hotch's apartment. I quickly mumbled to Spencer to make sure that everything was okay for me to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. He gave me a brief nod before I left the living room. Once I had gotten out of listening distance from the living room, I reached for my phone to see if there had been any missed calls or texts from Emily while grabbing a glass from the cabinet. Nothing had popped up and my shoulders fell in defeat again. An echoing shot rang out, one that could only come from a gun, and the glass slipped from my hands before shattering onto the tile floor beneath my feet. My breath caught in my throat and my heartbeat became nearly erratic when I came to the realization that someone had shot their weapon.

"Spence!" I ran out of the kitchen and into the living room where the files were still on the table but neither Tom nor Spencer could be seen. My hand immediately reached for my weapon and pulled it out of the holster, raising it slowly as I moved towards the front door that was now open, and peered around the corner to see Spencer lying on the grass with Tom beside him. An older gentleman was moving towards him with his own weapon raised. He hadn't seen me yet. The light from the sun and the darkened doorway allowed me to move into the yard with my own weapon raised as the man moved closer to Spencer who was now laying in front of Tom with his gun aimed at the man. "Drop the gun!"

"He killed my son!" His words were full of tears and his eyes held nothing but pain as he continued to walk towards my best friend who was in the grass. 

"He did not kill your son. The death of your son was an accident." The man's face had been red from the anger and tears that streamed down his cheeks but no matter what I said, he had continued to walk towards the two gentleman and began directing Spencer to stand up. "Please, I do not want to shoot you. Lower your weapon!"

"Stand up, you coward!" 

"Mr. Meyers, listen to me. It's over. Dr. Barton did not kill your son." Spencer's calm words resulted in the faltering hold of the mans weapon, his bloodshot eyes taking in every word he said as if he was starting to finally believe them. "Your son was killed in a car accident. This is not what he would want."

I slowly continued to make my way down the steps and my gaze fell towards the gushing wound on Spencer's leg. Blood seeped out of the laceration while staining the bright green grass and the position I was in had been forgotten about momentarily before the sound of sirens had come down the street. Mr. Meyers had now fully lowered his weapon but when his attention had turned to look at the police cars now racing down the street, he apologized and began to raise his weapon once more. A second shot rang out within seconds and the body of our unsub fell to the floor with his weapon flying across the yard. Tom had taken the opportunity to try and help Spencer but he had been directed to go towards the man who lay motionless on the front yard. 

"Spencer, are you okay?" Tom Barton had moved towards the man who lay just past the sidewalk with his breathing becoming labored. Mr. Meyers was pushed over onto his back and lay helpless while the doctor removed his jacket to hold the wound closed despite his efforts on telling the doctor to let him die. My best friend had yet to answer me and I dropped my gaze to find him watching the actions of Barton with his fingers wrapped tightly around his gunshot wound. "Spence?"

"The medics are almost here. Can you keep him stabilized?" He ignored my question and the fact that I dropped by his side with my weapon holstered as the police pulled in front of the house. An ambulance followed shortly after. I wasn't sure what to do. I was just an FBI agent. I knew medical terminology and what they needed but I didn't know how to help an open wound. My hands fell to hold Reid's shoulders, needing to do anything other than just hang at my side, as he leaned back into me while Tom ran back to look into his wound with our teammates pulling up into the driveway. "I'm okay, I'm fine. Go to your son." 

Spencer refused to let Tom look into his wound and pushed him to go see his son who had just exited one of the police cruisers. Morgan and JJ ran up to make sure that Reid was okay, but he had pushed their worry off to tell them to call Emily. When they had asked about where she was, he told them that something had happened to Hotch and she was there. JJ stepped away to call Emily and the rest were about to follow when I hopped from my position next to Reid and asked for them to leave one of the cars so I could get him to a hospital. Why he was refusing to let the medics look at him here was beyond me but I was going to a hospital even if it meant arguing. Rossi and Morgan agreed before hurrying to get into one of the cars with JJ. 

"Come on, Spence, let's go." I reached for Spencer's arms to throw them over my shoulder and he once again tried to tell me that he was fine. My hands fell in anger against the ground beside him as I looked at him with the most unkind expression I could muster. "Damn it, Spencer, no. You're not fine! You were shot and you're bleeding. Now, you are going to the damn hospital even if it means carrying you!" 

"You couldn't carry me if you tried, Neri." Spencer finally started to push himself into a standing position, one hand reaching to grab mine to help him stand up straight, and I helped him hobble towards the cruiser that the three agents left for us. He tried to move around to get into the driver's seat but I directed him towards the passenger side instead. "It'll be faster if you let me drive. You drive like a snail." 

"Enough, Reid." It was nice to know that he still had a sense of humor while blood was pouring out of his leg. I shut the door after helping Spencer get situated and hurried to the other side of the car. His hands were still wrapped around his leg as I sped through the streets with the sirens bouncing through the buildings. Spencer had stopped his occasional outburst of pain the closer we got the the hospital, and by the time we pulled into the ER parking lot, it was like he had completely forgotten about it all together. It wasn't until I helped him out of the car did he start his groans again. I helped Spencer into the ER lobby and into one of the empty wheelchairs before the receptionist called for a doctor to pull him back into their first open room. They didn't need to do much; a couple stitches with some gauze and a leg brace had been all he needed. Pain medication had been refused and the doctor glanced at me briefly with raised eyebrows but all I could respond with was a shrug of the shoulders. Why Spencer was so against pain medications had yet to be something that we covered in our conversations. We were told that Spencer would be staying the night at the hospital to make sure there was no internal damages because gunshot wounds could jolt the body. They wanted to make sure that his body was still functioning correctly after the shock. 

My fingers reached for his hand and I watched my thumb rub across his skin. I could feel his eyes on my head but couldn't bring myself to match his gaze. Spencer reassured me that he was okay but I couldn't fight the feeling that had been in my chest since I heard that gunshot ring out. There was no way that I could tell him that my world seemed to stop with the fear that he had gotten hurt. I had known him for a month and he had already over taken my thoughts, even when he shouldn't be, and he could never know that. If he figured out that I had begun to harbor feelings towards him, our entire work relationship would change and I didn't want to risk jeopardizing the friendship that I had made with him. There were too many things that could go wrong if I admitted to holding at least some form of a crush for the man that had been laying in the hospital bed with his eyes never leaving my form that had now rested my head on his forearm. The warmth of his skin had brought a wave of comfort across my body and I felt the exhaustion catching up with me when he moved his free hand to rest on my head, his fingers rubbing slow circles across the skin before I had fallen asleep on his arm. 

"Neri . . ." A soft voice had brought me out of my deep sleep and my eyes peeled open to find Spencer shaking me lightly. I was met with an overwhelming smell of antibiotics with bright blinding luminescent lights in a room filled with medical equipment. It took me a few moments to come back from my nap when I realized that we were still in the hospital. Spencer's arm was bright red from my head resting on it for an extended period of time and I looked at him with a guilty look. "Don't worry about it. They have to take me to my room for the night so you have to go home." 

The silhouettes of two doctors had been outlined on the fabric curtain separating them from the room we were currently in. I rubbed my eyes roughly before pushing myself to stand from the uncomfortable hospital seat. My bones popped when I stretched my arms and legs before looking down at Spencer had been watching my every move with an unknown look in his eyes, almost regret. He was only going to be here for a total of maybe 12 hours just so they can make sure that the shock of the gunshot didn't affect anything else in his body but I couldn't help but want him to go home for the night. Hospitals had been something that I was never a fan of even though they were there to save people. 

"Can't they just let you go home or something? If they want someone to be there with you, you can sleep on my couch. You've done it countless times already over the last two weeks." Spencer laughed at my statement before shaking his head no. Apparently he had already asked while I was asleep and they would prefer that he stay there overnight. A heavy sigh left my lips and I looked back at the doctors who were conversing over whatever was going on in their life. "No call tonight. You need to sleep. I'll be back in the morning to pick you up and take you to your place."

I was the one who brought him to the hospital so someone was going to have to come pick him up regardless. It might as well be me. With that, I took this chance to leave and head into the brightly lit hallway with my eyes flinching from the white. Doctors moved about the hospital with their hands shoved into their white coats or scrubs and I moved slowly amongst them. Sleep had still been laced in my body while I walked like a zombie until I reached the FBI car that was still parked in the same spot I left it in. I slammed the door just a little too loud once I got in and pulled my phone out of my pocket to see a text from Rossi and from JJ. Rossi had told me that I could just return the car on Monday when we went back to work. Today was Saturday. I sent a quick text back that said will do, moving onto the text from JJ that had just mentioned how Hotch was doing. He would be out of work for the next month but was stable. I stared at the empty parking spot in front of me for a few seconds to wake up enough to drive to my apartment building that was only 20 minutes away before pulling out of the parking lot with the steady sound of soft music playing in the background. 

My front door opened with a creak against the silent air surrounding me while I threw the keys in the bowl on the light tan table underneath my alarm system. The moonlight found its way into my apartment through the cracks of my curtains and painted my living room in a hazy white. I left in a hurry this morning and the blanket that I had curled on my couch with had still been thrown on the floor. Exhaustion had been so evident in my body when I arrived home the night before last that I couldn't muster up the energy to make it to my bedroom so I had fallen asleep on the couch instead. I bent down with a groan to put it in on the deep brown leather couch before dragging myself through my hallway towards my bedroom in the back of the apartment. My bed was made but had some clothes placed haphazardly across the neat blanket with a few drawers on my milky white dresser open, a few shirts hanging over the edge of the drawer. I cleaned up as best I could before climbing into my bed and plugging my phone up on the charger on my bedside table. A text message had shown on the screen when it lit up that I hadn't noticed before. 

_i can't sleep_

A smile played at my lips when I read Spencer's text and I rolled my eyes. 

_go to sleep, spence._

Warmth rushed over my body, waking me up from my sleep with an echoing groan, and I opened my eyes to find sun rays lighting up my room. I had slept for seven hours with my dreams being wild from start to finish and no matter how much I wished to fall back asleep, I had to get ready to get Spencer from the hospital. My bones popped and cracked as I pushed myself out of my bed with a groan, my arms stretching high to get the kinks out of the sockets, before I grabbed some of my most comfortable casual clothing out of my dresser and got dressed. Today was a day full of laziness so my hair had been pulled into a ponytail while I reached for the keys that had a subtle FBI keychain on them and left the apartment. The hallway was empty but smelled like fresh coffee and pancakes. The family across the hall had three children whose fits of laughter seemed to light up most of everyone's hearts on the worst days and the smell of homemade breakfast had filled the corridor every Sunday morning. A smile teased at my lips when I heard their youngest daughter get thrown into an echoing laughter fit when I pushed the button for the elevator. The doors screeched open in front of me and I pulled out my phone when it began to descend to the ground floor lobby.

_otw. be there in 30._

I sent the short and simple text off to Spencer, rubbing my eyes softly to remove the sleep hanging tight to my eyelashes, before walking out into the warm Virginia air. It had been a comfortable day for the most part but I could do without the temperature raising into the mid 80s. The black car was parked in my normal spot and had been scorching inside with the leather steering wheel causing my hand to flinch away upon impact. I turned the key over in the ignition, rolling the windows down to get some form of air circulation going on, before carefully wrapping my fingers around the lowest part of the wheel which had also been the coolest. Traffic hadn't been too bad as it was the last day of the weekend and most people were either at church or sleeping in before getting up early in the morning the next day so I was able to make it to the hospital within 20 minutes. I was there before Spencer had even made it town to the inpatient pick up zone. Within minutes, I watched as the hospital doors slid open with Spencer Reid being pushed out in a wheelchair with a cheeky smile on his lips once he noticed I was already here. A pair of crutches had been laying across his lap that now had a sleek metal brace stretching out his injured leg. The doctor opened up the passenger side door and assisted Spencer into the car before giving a polite smile and heading back inside.

"How are you feeling?" I pulled away from the entrance to the hospital, heading towards the direction where Spencer told me his apartment was. The man was silent as he sat beside me with his nose twitching every so often. His fingers tapped against the silver metal of the crutches, occasionally lifting to direct me where to go. A soft melodic guitar had been the only thing that filled the air and part of me wondered if I had done something wrong. He had only given me a wide grin since I picked him up and nothing else. He had been otherwise cold towards me. I even tried to mention how we could spend the day watching his favorite horror movies and that received no response. My fingers tensed around the wheel while we pulled into the parking garage of his apartment complex. Once we had parked, I went to the passenger side of the car and helped Spencer put all his weight onto his crutches. "What floor are we heading to?"

"4." I pursed my lips slightly before nodding and pressing the button to open the elevator. Spencer moved in slowly and leaned onto the back wall of the lift while I pressed the faded number four button. I couldn't help but continuously glance over at the man whose head had fallen back to rest against the wall with his fingers gripping his crutches so tight that his knuckles were turning white. I asked him once more how he was feeling but was just given a brief one worded answer of "Fine."

Spencer hopped out of the elevator once the doors opened to find the fourth floor corridor. I followed closely behind with my hands always resting slightly higher than normal in case he needed help. His hands fumbled in his pockets for his keys when he approached his front door to unlock it. He had pulled them out but they had dropped from his grasp almost immediately. A mumbled 'fuck' had fallen from his lips and it took me a second to regain my composure upon hearing Spencer Reid curse. I leaned forward with my hand on his back to pick the keys up instead of him and took the chance to unlock the door myself despite his annoyed sigh behind me. I pushed it open to find an apartment that looked exactly like I thought it would.

Two brown leather couches, one pushed against a wall that held two large windows with dark purple drapes, had been in the living room that had walls similar in color to the furniture. Two bookshelves stretching from the floor to the ceiling with a flat screen tv had been on the opposite wall with a black wooden coffee table filling the space on the floor. Thick books had been on the surface, one open to a page lined with what looked like poetry at first glance, and a cup of cold day old coffee was next to it. A thick gray blanket was folded and draped over one of the couches. Nightstands similar in color to the bookshelves were on either side of both couches with two holding back lamps and the others holding scented candles that smelled like men's cologne. Everything in here sat on a deep red large area rug that was placed upon a shiny dark oak wooden floor. The entire living room gave off a warm feeling inside and had been a welcoming sight despite never having stepped foot in here before. I watched as Spencer hopped over to the couch and once he sat down, he grabbed a thick pillow to put on the coffee table and rested his leg. 

"Do you need anything? I can get you a glass of water?"

"I'm fine. You can go." His hands ran along the length of his calf the best he could with the brace and I shut the door behind me, still standing at the front of his living room. I wasn't leaving without trying to find out what is wrong with the man who I thought was my best friend. Hesitantly, I moved closer to where he was sitting on his couch acting as if I wasn't even here. He tried to move away from me once I took a seat next to him and it didn't slip past my mind as his awkward demeanor had returned. After the last couple of weeks, I thought that him acting like this around me had stopped but I guess not.

"Spencer, what's about watching your favorite movies all day? Did I do something?" His hazel eyes flicked over to me for a brief second but ignored my question with reaching for his remote to turn on what looked like an older black and white movie. I didn't know what to do. He wasn't answering my questions again today and I couldn't ignore how his body language had gone from comfortable around me to walls being built over a matter of hours. "Spence . . ."

"Just go, Nerida!" His outburst resulted in me flinching and hoping from my spot beside him on the couch. As soon as he noticed my actions, his eyes softened and a look of almost regret came across his face but it was brushed away by him telling me his was fine. He had never yelled at me before. Spencer hadn't even had given me any sign of attitude since I had met him. The only time I ever saw him get snappy was with Tom Barton yesterday when the doctor had gotten angry with me. I stared at him for a few more moments as he did the same before shaking my head and taking that as a sign to leave. He didn't try to apologize or even call out for me as I slammed his front door behind me. The sound echoed down the hall. He had turned the tv up in his apartment, the muffled voices playing being heard as I leaned against the door for a split second, and I shook myself out of the shock of him yelling at me to leave the building. 

I sat in the FBI vehicle as my mind ran wild while I tried to figure out what I could do with my time today. Originally, I had planned to spend it with Spencer and help him with whatever he needed but it had been clear that he didn't want me there so my plans had turned to shit. I could buy groceries but I wasn't home for extended periods of time enough to justify getting more things that had been in my cabinets at the moment. It would be a waste of money. I thought back to the women I worked with, how despite seeing them nearly every day I had yet to grow as close to them as I had with Spencer, and I opened the groupchat that Garcia had put me in to see if they were free to hang out. Garcia had apologized profusely but had previous engagements with her boyfriend, Prentiss going to check on Hotchner. JJ had said she was spending time with her family today. Back to the apartment it is then.

* * *

There was no phone call last night. No text message came that said that he couldn't sleep and when I texted him, I had received no reply. My mind had still wandered even as I walked into the BAU with thoughts that I did something wrong but I couldn't figure out what. He wouldn't answer me when I asked and had avoided me all day yesterday. I put my go-bag down a little bit louder today to see if it would even illicit a glance in my direction when I arrived at my desk but there was nothing. My shoulders fell in obvious annoyance when I went to get me some coffee. The curious stares of Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss hadn't been passed by when I stopped at the counter and I turned to look at them with raised eyebrows. 

"What?" My tone was a little more snappy than I would have liked. I shut my eyes as I tried to lower my breathing before turning back to pouring the piping hot coffee into a BAU mug, sitting down at the table next to my co-workers afterwards. They had continuously looked back from Spencer and me who I was sure hadn't even given me a second look this morning and I tried to ignore the tearing of my heart strings at his cold attitude. Our friendship was known throughout the BAU and while they didn't know how close we were, it was obvious that we were closer than he had been with anyone else and the same went for me. So to see us not talking about weird facts in the morning had brought nothing but concern. I didn't want to talk about it though and that much was clear from my silence and the way my eyebrows were furrowed to try and stop my hurt and confusion from showing. JJ telling us that we had a case had been a silent answer to my prayers that their attention would switch off me and we moved from the table into the conference room where Hotch and Rossi had already been sitting in. I sat in my normal seat with the chair next to me open for Spencer to sit in, but my strings tugged a little harder when he had hopped over to take Garcia's spot at the other side of the table. Morgan filled Reid's seat this time and gave me a caring pat on the shoulder as JJ had gone into her normal briefing routine. 


	7. Chapter 7

That was the first case briefing that I did not want to be apart of. Sitting in the room with everyone else whilst Spencer ignored my presence had caused my mind to falter as I tried my best to pay attention to the things on the screen and the words falling from JJ's lips. I knew what was going in the case. I wouldn't allow him to take over every part of my brain. But his actions towards me had been enough for my attention to switch every few seconds. When Hotch had told Spencer that he was to stay with Garcia today instead of joining us, a breath of relief had left my lips a little too loudly and the wandering eyes had been drawn to my seat at the end of the table. The only pair that didn't look at me was Spencer. Morgan's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than everyone else's when we began to leave the conference room. My action had been enough for him to approach me once I grabbed my go-bag with his feet falling in line with my steps as we headed towards the jet. 

"Okay, what happened with you and pretty-boy? I thought you guys were friends." His words were soft though and had been chosen carefully but were filled with curiosity on what happened between Spencer and me. I didn't want to talk about it. I wasn't sure if there was anything to even discuss, but I knew Morgan enough to know that unless I gave him a legitimate reason, he was going to continue pushing. Either that, or he would go to Hotch or Rossi to see if they could talk with me. I sighed heavily and tried to hide the roll of the eyes as I pushed the door open to the landing strip. 

"I don't know. Everything was fine one day, and then the next it was like he was a completely different person." I gave as little information as possible. Morgan was probably the last person I wanted to know about me going to Spencer's apartment yesterday even if it was just to take him home besides Hotch. I sat in one of the armchairs near the back of the aircraft to stay away from the remaining teammates who had begun to file in shortly after Morgan and I arrived. He hadn't poked the question any longer and had settled with looking more into the case that we had been assigned to. "You said this was in Long Island?"

"Yeah, didn't you live there?" Morgan picked up on me wanting to change the subject that we had just been discussing and willfully obliged by mentioning that I had said I was from New York City. I shook my head. "Maybe we can see what baby Priest got into after the case. 

"No, I lived in Manhattan. That's about an hour from there though, so close." I was thankful that the case was in Long Island instead of my home city, knowing that if it had been any closer and in the jurisdiction of another precinct, I would have a lot of explaining to do. I had been thrown into the discussion of how Ben Vanderwaal had been murdered in his home the previous night. He had received shots to the chest and the head with his hands being sawed off. There had been two previous cases that were similar to this one except with one, the man's genitals had been taken, and with the other, she had been starved and tortured. "Why did he take Heather Vanderwall and not kill her? Would've been easier, saved him the risk of her identifying him should she escape."

"Maybe she hasn't and she's still alive." That was a point. There was no indication that she was dead yet and there was the chance that she could have gotten away after he had finished with Ben Vanderwaal. The unsub definitely didn't kill her in the house if she had been dead as there was no second blood trial shown from the pictures. My gaze followed Hotch as he moved from the back of the aircraft towards where the rest of the team sat as the conversation continued.

"The only thing concrete is the M.O., which depicts a no-nonsense murderder." Two out of the three murders had been mutilated post mortem. Ben Vanderwaal had lost his hands after he had been shot, and Bill Levington had his genitals removed after the life left his bones. Rita Haslat was the only one that hadn't been mutilated after the execution as she had been starved and tortured before death. 

"We need to figure out what each mutilation means to the unsub, or to the victim then." This briefing had been short lived with no whitty facts having been interjected. Sure, I was smart and had some percentages and other things that were otherwise useless in our everyday situations but it was nothing compared to the things within Spencer Reid's mind. The occasional glance in my direction while I looked at the case files in front of me from Derek hadn't slipped past me but I wouldn't entertain whatever had been going on inside his head. I couldn't dwell on this any longer though. If I allowed it too, I would spend the rest of the day running over my actions from yesterday and begin to nit pick every little thing I did to see where it went wrong. I had to shake the thoughts from my head and look out the jet window to find New York City coming into view.

It had been nearly 2 years since I came home. It wasn't a place that I found myself returning to a lot. I only came to visit on my mother's birthday, my father having passed away a few months after they found my sister, and then on Thanksgiving or Christmas when I had found the courage. My mom understood that my career had picked up since the last time I had gone to see her though so she hadn't been too adamant on me paying her a visit. We had texted each other every so often and when she had missed me a little too much, she would call me. It had been too long since I walked into the house I grew up in though and I couldn't ignore how it felt in my body when I watched the city that I had once known like the back of my hand come over the horizon. 

"Sir?" The word has slipped past my lips without any warning. Hotchner's gaze had risen from the file in his hands to look at me as well as the attention of the other co-workers. "If it isn't too much trouble, I think I am going to drive back after this case. I want to see my mother." 

"I don't see why not. Let's just see when we finish this case." That was the best answer I could get at this point. I watched as the plane descended onto the dark gray tarmac where numerous police officers stood awaiting our arrival. Hotchner informed everyone of their duties while we were here. I was to head towards the precinct to get the board ready like I do most cases and to call them if I found anything. Once everyone had their directions, we had grabbed our things after landing and went our respective ways for now with Prentiss and Hotch joining the policemen. 

It had taken me only a few moments to drive from the airport to where I would be staying until further notice. I stepped through the doors and had been immediately surrounded by the familiar look of a Long Island police station. While I had lived and grown up in Manhattan, Long Island was close enough to where I could still get in trouble with these officers too. I wasn't going to tell the team that. The only person who knew about my past wasn't talking to me though so I couldn't really confide in him for the anxious feeling that had overtaken my bones upon walking through that front door. I desperately wished that the Sheriff that had caused me so much trouble all those years ago was no longer head. I had been pulled from my thoughts when an older man approached me. His hair was gray and slicked back with a mustache and beard in similar color. He wore deep brown thin glasses and a smile when he approached me. His name was Detective Gil Hardesty. 

"Hello, I'm Special Agent Nerida Priest. I'm with the FBI working on the Vanderwaal case. Do you mind showing me where I can set up?" Upon hearing who I was and who I work for, he led me towards a conference room near the back of the precinct that held a round table and multiple board pushed against the back walls. I thanked him as he told me that if he needed anything else, to contact him and began to pin the photos from the files on the rolling cork board. One thing had struck out while I had pinned it which caused me to pull out the laptop and video chat with Garcia. 

"Talk to me, darling." I had momentarily paused with my actions of hanging up the papers that had been in the folder to ask her about the daughter of Heather Vanderwaal. She had told me that Hotchner had already asked her to look into the status of that relationship but that she was more than willing to go ahead and give me the information as it was clear that I was alone at the precinct. The mention of me being alone around police officers that was very close to where I grew up had caused Spencer's fingers to stop messing with the stress reliever that Garcia had in her office and I tried to ignore the look in his eyes. "Her ex-husband took Allison out of school in the middle of the term." 

The only reason for that to happen was if there had been some serious family issues going on. I reached for a pen out of the cup on the table and scribbled the notes onto an empty sheet of paper before allowing them to continue. 

"After that, Heather cut a check for $5,000 and it was directed to a family law firm called Lewis, Bell, & Peters 6 days ago." Spencer had taken over giving me the information now and my eyes lingered on him for a minute longer through the computer screen. I didn't want to talk to him and it was clear he didn't want to talk to me outside of work but still, I couldn't help the feeling that grew in my stomach at the sound of his voice. It had been nearly two days since he had spoken to me and said anything other than fine and I tried to hide the rushing emotion that flashed through my eyes. Not wanting to look at him any longer than I had to, I turned back around to continue hanging the papers on the boards while continuing to talk to them.

"Is there anything showing why she was going to them? Or why she moved Allison out of school?" My phone dinged quietly in my pocket and I pulled it out to read the short text message that Hotchner had sent me to say that they had found Heather Vanderwaal wandering alone along the side of the street. They had picked her up and brought her to get checked out. 

"She was filing for divorce from Ben Vanderwaal but I can't find anything on why her biological father took her out of school mid-term. Do not fret though, my little child, if it is out there, I will find it. And before you say anything, I will find out where the father is and if he was in town at the time of the crime." Garcia had a way with words. I took a step away from the board once everything had been tacked in place to look at the bigger picture. If the divorce and pulling Allison out of school had been connected in some way, I needed to find out and JJ was the one to do that for me.

"Okay, thanks, Garcia. They just picked up Heather off the side of the road. She's at the hospital now. JJ is going to talk with her so I'm going to see if she can get any information on why out of her." Silence had fallen over the conference room once more with the only noise coming from the ringing phones on the desks outside. My fingers fumbled with my cell with the screen showing Hotch's text before growing agitated over watching Spencer act like he hadn't been actively ignoring me and calling JJ. Her tone was hushed when she answered the phone and a quiet beeping had been heard underneath her words. "Hey, JJ, it said in the files that Heather had a daughter. Garcia looked into what happened to her and it turns out that her biological father pulled her out of school mid-term and then Heather filed for divorce from Ben. Anyway you can find out why she did that and get back to me?" 

"Yeah, of course. I'll call you if I find anything." I reached for a black dry erase marker, quickly scribbling down father, and sat back down at the round table as Rossi entered. He had two cups of steaming hot coffee and a bag of what smelled like freshly baked bagels that he put on the table in front of me. The aroma shut my eyes with pleasure and my hands reached in to grab a cheese bagel with him placing one of the cups next to me. I watched as he walked towards the board that I had just finished putting together and pointed his finger towards the messy word that I wrote as if silently asking for an explanation. 

"Heather had a daughter whose father pulled her out of school in the middle of the term. After that, Heather began to file for divorce from Ben Vanderwaal, our victim. I figured that if the two are connected, if Ben did something that caused Allison to be pulled out of school and a divorce to be filed, and the father found out about it, he would have cause." Rossi nodded slowly, lifting his bagel up and taking a bite out of it, before mumbling how that would connect to what the mother went through ."The father could see it is Heather let whatever Ben did happen, but didn't want to kill her because she birthed his kid, so he let her go. I'm having JJ talk to Heather now to see what the reason was and Garcia is looking into the father's whereabouts."

We had fallen silent for a few moments when he nodded as we awaited the phone call of either JJ or Garcia, and when the laptop screen lit up to notify us that Garcia had been video calling us, I turned towards the computer and answered the call. The brightly dressed woman had popped up with a smile across her purple painted lips before ripping the stress toy out of Spencer's hands to draw his attention away from the toy. Her eyes held something different underneath them. Her smile didn't reach her pupils and I flicked my gaze to the man who sat beside her, curious about whether they had discussed the issues that had arisen over the weekend, but I pushed the thought away by asking if they had found anything on the father. 

"Her father was in San Diego on the night of the crime and he had no connection to the other two murders so it looks like he's off the lift of suspects. Sorry, babe." My eyebrows furrowed at the name babe for a split second before pursing my lips in thought. The father had every reason to kill Ben Vanderwaal if he had done something to his daughter but he had an alibi. I grabbed the eraser behind me and rid the board of the word before turning back to the computer screen. We were back to square one. I looked around the files that lay in front of me and ran my fingers across the words when my phone rang. JJ was calling me back.

"So Heather found a naked picture of Allison on Ben's phone. That's why she was sent to live with her father and that's why she was filing for divorce." I rubbed my head in moderate annoyance before telling her thank you but that the father has an alibi the night of the crime and had no tie to the previous victims. The call had ended shortly after that when she told me that she was on the way to the precinct with Hotch and the rest of the team. I told Garcia, Rossi, and Spencer what I had been told and what was found on Ben's phone which caused Garcia's nose to scrunch up in disgust. I thanked the two on the screen for their research before closing out the call, turning to Rossi who had finished his bagel. A heavy sigh escaped my lips when we shared a knowing glance and began working back on our suspect list. 

The detective who had greeted me at the front door had walked into the conference room with the rest of the team, introducing himself to David Rossi who had shook his hand with a polite smile, and Morgan had told us the information that he had found on the case. 

"The .22 caliber bullets had no rifling marks, and without the barrel being rifled, the bullets would have very little velocity." Morgan spoke with firm conviction as he thumbed through the file in his hands to pass a picture towards JJ. I glanced over her shoulder to find a golden object lined up with a ruler. With the weapon having little velocity, it would mean that he would have to shoot his victims at pointblank range. "This guy's using a zip gun. If you know what you're doing, a piece of plumbing or a bike pump could be turned into a gun." 

"One in the heart, one in the head. Untraceable and expandable bullets tell me without question that all of these bullets were strictly business." Rossi had interjected to give his opinion on the motive behind the acts of violence now that we had received more information than what was on the board in front of us. A hitman in Long Island wasn't that surprising to me, or Rossi for that matter. Both of us were from New York and anyone who had lived in the city for more than a couple months knew that the type of people to hire hitmen did not play around. JJ had asked about the postmortem mutilation after it was brought up that someone hired the unsub to kill the victims.

"A contract includes extras sometimes, but that might have just been purely for self-pleasure." Rossi nodded at my input and Hotchner told us that the camera was meant for proof of death now that we knew it was a hired act of violence. Detective Hardesty's voice raised in tone when he asked if that meant we could be looking for two people. "Maybe. Maybe more. It's hard to tell with these kinds of cases, so I've read."

The detective rushed off at that statement with his cellphone being pulled out of his pockets. My eyes fell back to Rossi who had hesitantly offered to talk to some of his old contacts from when he lived in Long Island, stating that he would need to be alone if he did so, and had avoided questions when Morgan and Prentiss asked if we wanted to know what contacts implied. Hotch nodded and the man left shortly after. 

"You have any _contacts_ that could help out, Priest?" Prentiss had asked me in a teasing manner if I lived a life like Rossi's when I was in New York and I laughed, shaking my head. My life was secret to everyone but Spencer and those who had done the extensive background check needed before I could get hired to work for the FBI and I would like it to be left like that until I decided otherwise. I stood from the seat at the table, eager to change the subject, and pointed towards the graphic photo depicting the sawed off end of Ben Vanderwaal's arm once Morgan called Garcia and Spencer back to video chat. 

"The removal of the hands is specific, like Rita Haslat's condition when she was found and the removal of Levington's genitals." Detective Hardesty returned when the conversation had drifted back to the case at hand and stood next to Hotch who had leaned on the desk while I spoke. "There is a message in the mutilations that the unsub wants us to know. Garcia, is there anything that Levington did that was similar to Vanderwaal? Was there any sexual accusations against him that you can find?" 

I moved from the board to stand next to Hotch who had the computer next to him showing the two agents back in Quantico. My eyes continued to avoid Spencer, always only talking directly to Garcia as if he wasn't there, and watched as Garcia's attention was turned to one of her many computer screens while she looked into Levington's past. 

"Actually, yes. Bill Levington was involved in a serial rape case, all involving minors, but it never went to trial." There we go. The two men had now both shared a history of perverted actions against minors - Levington with the rape and Vanderwaal with the picture of Allison on his phone. Hotch asked if there was anything like that involving Rita Haslat and the eagerness of Spencer to answer a question had overtaken Garcia. 

"She was a former social worker." If I hadn't been upset with him, I would have laughed at his childlike behavior but I knew that right now he was just trying to get into any conversation he could because I had never addressed him directly or asked him to speak when I called. When he began talking, I moved away from the webcam to return back to the side of the room with the board and Morgan was watching my movements with an apologetic look. "She attained said former status when she was fired for gross negligence. In one of her cases, a young boy was starved to death." 

"That explains why she was so emaciated when she was found." The unsub cuts the hand off Vanderwaal because of the picture, the genitals off Levington because of the rape, and starves Haslat because of the boy. 

"One of the unsubs has to access the crimes of the victims and most likely works for the justice system. That's the only way that they can find out about these cases. Garcia?" I didn't need to say much more, just her name, and that was enough for her to get the gist of where I was going. Hotch hung up after she had said on it. Now we just needed to find out who they have in common. 

"The rape case and the social worker, those are both matters of record. The Vanderwaal's and the picture of Allison? That isn't." Emily had mentioned that there was no record of the incident with the Vanderwaal's like there was with the other two victims. 

"Unless the stepdaughter told someone else." The detective had informed us that he would be bringing the daughter in for questioning over what happened and Prentiss stepped off to the side to call Rossi. We had already gone over if there had been anyone in the lives of each person that had been overlapping but had yet to find anything. Garcia and Spencer were still going through the lives of the three and had come up with nothing other than the crimes they had done against children. I gnawed quietly on my bottom lip as the conversation of the case carried on, my hands reaching to pull my phone out of my back pocket. I had texted my mom earlier to ask how she was doing and she responded 43 minutes ago. 

_It's good to hear from you, sweetie. I'm doing just fine. How is work going?_

I typed out that work was fine and that I was actually in the city for an assignment. I didn't want to ask if she was up for a visit just yet, not sure if I would even be able to make the time to see her with Hotch telling me to wait until after this case is finished to see if I had time before my next shift. But I wanted her to know that I was back home for the time being. I closed my phone back up and slid it back into my pocket before standing to join the conversation.

The detective returned a few minutes later with Allison Vanderwaal and her father in tow with a look of confusion on his face. He had yet to be told why she was being brought in by his expression. His hands had been resting protectively on her shoulders with the Allison watching the floor that she walked across with a guilty expression. Hotch told Prentiss and Morgan to join Hardesty in the room he had just directed the father and daughter into.

"The father doesn't know." Hotch agreed with what I said, backing up my statement by mentioning what I had been thinking. The dad didn't walk with the demeanor of someone who had known that his daughter only recently moved out of a house with someone who had been silently preying on her. He didn't walk with any anger lingering in his bones or any added protection. His hands on her shoulders had been what any parent would have done should their child get called in for questioning. 

Morgan and Prentiss returned a short thirty minutes later and had informed us that the therapist of Allison had been called in. He would be arriving shortly and we were to interview him. He was the only other person that knew about the incident between Ben and Allison, which now made him prime suspect number one. Hotch told me that I would be running point on the interrogation but that Prentiss would be in the room with me the entire time. 

"Sir, I have never ran an interrogation before." I stood just outside the cream colored door that led into the room that held the therapist of Allison Vanderwaal. My fingers picked at my palms in an anxious manner and my left foot tapped against the carpet nervously. The case file was lodged between my arm and my side while I stood in front of my supervisor. 

"I am sure that you will do fine, Agent Priest. Your actions this past month have shown that you are more than capable of handling a simple interview." That was the closest thing to a compliment I think I have ever gotten from Hotch. I let out a shaky breath before nodding to head into the room where a man sat in a dark brown chair, portions of the back becoming a chocolate brown underneath the light from the sunset peeking through the open blinds. His attention lifted to the two figures that were now entering the room while Hotch had entered the observation room out of the corner of my eye. The door latched behind me. 

Emily took a spot against the wall with her arms crossed in a defensive manner while I took the seat across from the therapist as calmly as possible, placing the file on the surface in front of me.

"Jerry Sorum, right?" The man nodded with a look in his eyes that was anything but friendly. His fingers pulled his long green cardigan tight against his body as his gaze flickered around the room. I had watched enough of the interrogations from where Hotch had stood on the other side of the one way mirror to know that I was to keep a steady tone no matter how agitated the person on the other end of the table got. "Special Agent Nerida Priest. I'm with the FBI."

"Am I a suspect?" My fingers raised slightly in a way to brush off his words before shaking my head. 

"No, not yet, Mr. Sorum." Those words caused his shoulders to fall only a little bit and a small breath of relief to escape his lips. I allowed him a few moments of silence, taking in how he sat under the gaze of two federal agents, before continuing with the interview. "What is your professional opinion of Allison?"

"You mean was she sexually abused by her stepfather?" I raised an eyebrow and nodded. At least he knew why he was coming in. He knew that we knew that he had been told the pictures that Ben Vanderwaal had taken of Allison. "No question." 

I asked if he had reported it to the police in which he responded with a dumbfounded of course, like he couldn't believe that I was asking if he had done the right thing and brought it to the attention of the officers. The police had brought it to the attention of the state and had gone to the therapists office but the young girl had wanted nothing more to do with the case so it had been closed. He brought up how it was similar to over 380,000 child abuses cases that go on each year. Less than 1% of those go to trial.

"Does that make you want to even the odds?" Jerry Sorum looked at me with his eyes turning to slits, fingers stopping their motion of silently tapping on the table, for a few moments. My tone was still calm though. It hadn't raised or lowered in any manner that would give him the indication that we had thought of him as a suspect, despite us obviously thinking that he would have had something to do with it given that he had known. 

"Every time that I listen to a child recount the most horrific acts of abuse done at the hands of someone who is supposed to protect them from the horrors of this world, someone that they are supposed to trust with their entire life . . . it's all I can do not to break down. But that's where it ends. That's all I am capable of." His tone of voice hadn't faltered in any way nor did his demeanor. His breathing wasn't picking up and his skin hadn't grown sweaty under my questions. There was no constant tapping of his feet against the dark blue carpet beneath his feet and the only noise came from his fingers that lifted and fell against the wood of the table every so often. "After that, I trust in the justice system."

I glanced at Emily behind me who gave me the silent look that the interview was over. My fingers reached for the file that I hadn't even opened and I thanked Jerry Sorum for his corporation, shaking his hand on my way out, and Hotchner met us in the hall. Neither of us thought that the therapist had anything to do with the violent murder of Ben Vanderwaal so he would get marked off the suspect list when we arrived back to the conference room. The sun had already set with the moonlight creeping through the windows and Rossi stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. 

Rossi had gone into detail about how the conversation that he had with his old contact. His copy of the case file had been placed on the table when we arrived and he said that he was told it looked like the work of someone named Bosola. He was an older man who was well known in the area of New York that involved hitmen and things alike, but that nobody really never met him. Those that had only did so once. It was no surprise that Rossi told us that if the man had even the slightest idea that we were involved with the meeting tonight, Bosola wouldn't hesitate to get rid of the agent's contact.

Despite the meeting taking place in three hours, Hotch had directed everyone to get ready to go now. We would be arriving much earlier than planned in order for everyone to get in place and scope out the site before hand. Rossi would be with Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss with me, with multiple squad cars laced throughout the streets nearby. It couldn't look suspicious in any way so they would be continuously moving while we would stay parked in the shadows in our pitch black vehicles. Morgan hoped into the driver's seat with me in the passenger and Prentiss in the back before we slowly moved out of the parking lot to follow Hotch towards the restaurant that Rossi had been in just an hours before. 

"You and boy wonder still haven't made up yet?" Fucking Morgan. I looked at him with an expression that said 'are you kidding me right now' and hoped that Prentiss hadn't heard what he said despite her sitting right behind him in a car that was now parked. She would have to be damn near deaf to not hear it. When she asked what he meant, my eyes squeezed shut and I shook my head. "Remember this morning? How they wouldn't even talk to each other?" 

"Yeah, it was weird as hell." I felt my face grow warm underneath the topic of discussion and I wished for it to be over. It wasn't something that I wanted to talk about and it definitely wasn't something that I would want to be used to pass the time until we were set to go into the restaurant. I tried to ignore their words by pulling my phone out to check my messages to see my mother had texted back. She sounded excited that about me being in town and had offered to get me dinner whenever the case was finished. I answered with a short maybe and said that I would have to check with my boss before closing my phone.

"Something happened and she won't tell me what. I was wanting to know if they made up yet." Emily let out a low ooh before turning her full attention to me. I prayed that she would drop the topic of conversation but I knew her better than that. Morgan would eventually drop it but Emily wanted to know the juicy details. "I tried to get her to talk about it on the plane but she wouldn't budge."

"Because I don't even know what happened! Like I said, he was fine Saturday night and come Sunday morning when I brought him back to his apartment, it was like I didn't exist!" I watched as her eyes widen with what I said. Damn it. 

"You know where Spencer lives? None of us know where he lives!" I highly doubt that. He had worked with them far longer that I had worked at any other establishment and I didn't believe that they didn't know where he lived. I gave Emily Prentiss a knowing look and she shrugged. "Okay, that was a lie but none of us know what his apartment looks like and you do! Oh my goodness, what does it look like? Is it like you would expect a freaking genius to live in? Is there books all over the place?"

Yes. Emily had continued to throw questions in my direction about what Spencer's apartment lived like and I mentally answered every one despite only having stepped foot inside his living room. The constant interrogation had become anything but fun and I shot the woman behind me a look of anger which caused her to lean back in her seat. I couldn't yell at her like I wanted to. I wanted to yell and scream and make this entire conversation something that they would forget about because I didn't want people knowing just how close I was with Spencer Reid. Morgan and Garcia obviously didn't mind letting the entire BAU know about their close friendship but Spencer and I weren't them. We were the exact opposite.

Morgan poured sex and a good time with Garcia not holding anything back with her style. They gave off the confident look that everyone wanted and if Kevin wasn't in the picture, you would swear that they were an item. Spencer was closed off with walls built around him higher than you could ever climb unless he broke them down for you and his demeanor was anxious all the time. He was anything but confident until it involved something where he held vast knowledge on and he had told me the second time he stayed at my house that he never felt like he belonged anywhere until he got to the BAU. I was the same way. So while Morgan and Garcia flirted openly and didn't care about what others thought about their 'friendship'. Spencer and I were the exact opposite. Morgan had apologized quietly. 

"All units, go!" Hotch's stern voice carried across our earpieces, our attention immediately shooting the windows of the restaurant that had been lit up only a few seconds prior, and we hurried out of our vehicles with our weapons being gripped by our side. The exterior lights were never dimmed. The signal was never given. The light that had given the windows a soft glow for only a second had been from a silenced weapon. Morgan kicked down the doors to the restaurant and we cleared out the building with our weapons raised. There was no longer anyone in here except the body of what was once Rossi's friend. I looked at Rossi with eyes laced with remorse before holstering my gun. The remaining officers filed into the building along with the coroners office after a few moments and Morgan left to canvas the area. We had officers everywhere. They were covering the streets, the buildings, and even covered the roof but he still managed to get in. The silence in the room was suffocating as we all looked around at Rossi. He had watched the body of his friend lay on the table lifeless and if he had been hurt over this, he wasn't showing it in his features. The only way that we knew that he was actually hurt over what happened was by the way he spoke.

"How did he get through us?" His words were full of confusion and an underlying tone of pain, his fingers never leaving the handle of his weapon that was now holstered on his hip. I looked at looked at Emily who had just gotten off the phone with Garcia.

"Garcia ran his cell and he made a call at 4:38 to a pre-paid phone, another one to you at 11:41." That gave Bosola 7 hours to prepare for our arrival and get here before us. He was hidden in the restaurant and overheard the phone call that had been made to Rossi just a few short minutes ago and therefore, the murderous pair had known that we were onto them. I mumbled out an angry damn before glancing around the room to watch the officers taking pictures of the body, deep red blood seeping down the stained white table clothe and dripping onto the floor with the crossword puzzle that the man had been working on now laying in the puddle of fluid. 

Hotch had told us that we needed to sleep on it and look at the information fresh again tomorrow. We would give the profile in the morning since now we knew who was responsible for all of this but that we had messed up somewhere and that meant we weren't in the right headspace right now. The coroner was left to deal with the mess as we left the restaurant behind us and got in the cars we arrived in. Morgan tried to apologize once more for bringing up what was happening between Spencer and I but I brushed it off with a shrug of the shoulders. I didn't want to talk about it anymore and he should have known that. All that we could do now was focus on the case at hand and worry about delivering the profile tomorrow. 

* * *

With a clear head and fresh clothes, we all stood in front of the precinct with our voices firm in giving the profile. We told the officers about the meaning behind each mutilation and that we were looking at someone who worked in the criminal justice system. That was the only explanation on how they received the information about the cases that each victim had. It wasn't just drawn to one section though. We were looking at both defense and prosecution attorneys, judges, and cops. The mention of one of their own being apart of these crimes had caused numerous heads to lift up in slight surprise. The planner, the one who will be working in the criminal justice system, will have recently experienced a personal tragedy of some sort. He would have to be in his late 50s, early 60s due to the sophistication. The planner would have met the enforcer, otherwise known as Bosola, in the court system.

We dismissed the officers after successfully delivering the profile and Rossi moved towards the computer to talk to Garcia and Spencer about trials. When his voice had risen in shock, we all glanced over at him from our spot at the table to find him turning the computer screen to face us. An older man was on the screen and when Rossi was asked if he knew him, he dismissed it by stating that he knew his wife. She had been killed by a drunk driver a few years ago on her way home from work. Spencer's voice had come from the computer screen that was still facing Rossi when he said that loosing his wife could be the tragedy. Garcia backed it up by saying that Judge Schuller had taken a leave of absence about 12 months ago due to terminal cancer with 6 months left to live. That was when the killings started. The detective that greeted us when we arrived had voiced his strong discomfort with us going and accusing the judge of murder in which Hotch quickly responded that he will go to the attorney general and petition the chief justice if he had to. That wouldn't be necessary though. Rossi stood slowly and everyone's gaze followed his to find the Planner standing at the entrance of the conference room. 

"I believe that you are looking for me." That was new for me. Officers were directed to take the man to an interrogation room with Morgan and Rossi following close behind. I watched with wide eyes as they disappeared behind the closed door, looking back at Hotch who had given no sign as to his curiosity about why the judge had decided to turn himself in. He had just given us the motion to follow him into the observation room while the agents inside had begun to interrogate the man who had planned every murder. Morgan had already told the older man with snow white skin that they have to advise him of his rights. "I waive my constitutional rights against self-incrimination."

Rossi had placed the photos of the crime in front of Schuller with the conversation moving to how good his timing was on turning himself in. The judge had admitted to the crimes, stating that he was positive it wouldn't be long until we found him given the things that he left behind, and said that he saw his actions as justice. 

"It must've really thrown you when Ray was at Emma's funeral." The mention of Schuller's dead wife had raised the judge's head slightly, eyes flickering with confusion as to why Rossi knew about his wife. It had been clear to the agent that the judge sitting before him didn't recognize him at all. "You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?"

I turned my attention away from the interrogation happening on the other side of the glass to face Hotch. 

"Ray said that you only meet Bosola once, so the judge had to have given him the names. He never needs to see him again. Just payment once proof of death." There had to be transactions somewhere for that exchange on Schuller's files. Since people only meet Bosola once, the payments wouldn't be in cash and therefore had to be somewhere on the judge's computers. Hotch directed me to contact Garcia to have her hack into the files to track his financial records before everything gets shut down. He also gave me orders to see if his office had made any outgoing phone calls, but when the detective beside me had said he already contacted them to say we had two suspects, it was clear that he knew that we were onto him. "He came here to stall . . . there's more coming."

I quickly left the observation room and made my way towards the computer on the far side of the room that had a webcam hooked up to it. Garcia had already been at the ready and picked up within seconds, her normal rhetoric coming across the speakers while Spencer he been standing behind her chair on his crutches. He needed to be sitting down and resting his leg, but my concerns about his well being were not needed right now. I wasted no time in seeing if she could hack into the financial records of Judge Schuller to which she responded by saying that it was child's play and the sound her long nails typing on the keyboard had replaced her voice. Garcia mentioned a few moments later that someone had begun trying to bounce them out. 

"Bosola didn't come cheap so the transactions would have to be pretty large." She found wire transfers to a bank in the Cayman Islands but that had been where the trace ended. My fingers reached for a blank sheet of paper and a pen that had Long Island PD etched into the side before asking how many and how much had been sent. Each transaction hadn't gone above $9,999 and had been sent every other day until he took a break for a few weeks, making a final transaction for the same number. "Anything less than 10K keeps the IRS off your trail, so that number would make sense. The final payment must have been for the proof of death, and makes the price of a kill around $50,000."

"He did that 3 times over a period of 12 months up until two days ago, where he took out $100,000 in one hit. All his accounts were closed and his entire estate was handed over to a support group." There were two more names on the list. He wasn't finished. The judge was here to stall and allow his last two victims to be finished off while we were busy trying to figure out who was the one taking the life from the victim's. I hadn't said goodbye to Garcia, instead standing abruptly from my seat and taking off towards the closed door of the observation room to find Hotchner and Prentiss watching the monitor that showed footage of the interrogation being played back.

"Sir-" I had been cut off with my supervisor's hand raising as he rewound the tape to show Judge Schuller lashing out in anger. He had said something that caused them to already learn that there were more victims to come and with him continuously looking at his watch, another name was about to be crossed off the list. We just had to find out who it was. I watched as Rossi continued to push at the older man who was now sitting in the chair basically seething with anger with every mention of Emma. The man didn't want to believe that Rossi and his wife had previously had a thing, didn't want to believe that the agent knew the man's dead wife in that way, and an overdue outlash had come at the mention of the car wreck that caused her death. The man's name was Dan Patton. He had been drunk when he was at the wheel of the car that collided with Emma Schuller's. Hotch gave me a knowing look and I left the room once more to have Garcia give me any information she could on Patton's location. She had gotten his address within minutes of searching and while she did so, my eyes drifted to Spencer who had been flicking his gaze between watching the screen that Garcia was using to look up the address and looking at me with the same regret filled eyes he had when he woke me up in the hospital that day. "Thanks, Garcia. We'll keep you updated."

Hotch had walked towards me after the call had ended with an expectant look. I told him that the man lived in an apartment complex near here and that it would take about 20 minutes to get there. It wasn't long until Prentiss along with the detective had come to join my supervisor who had stood in front of me, telling me that I was to stay here with Morgan while the three of them went to check on Patton. All I could do was nod as I watched them strap their bulletproof vests on to leave the building. Morgan had approached me shortly after the left with his sunglasses on and a look on his face that mirrored the one he had this morning. It seemed like that was the only way he could look at me today. He took an empty seat next to the desk I was currently at and placed his cellphone on the table to show me a text from Garcia. Spencer had been off today. 

"Derek, that's his fault. I didn't do anything wrong." Morgan knew that, so did Garcia hopefully, but that wasn't changing the feeling in my body every time I realized that Spencer wanted nothing to do with me outside of work after over a month of being closer than anything else in my life. The man beside me told me that from what little I told him and how I was acting, it did seem like there was something that Spencer wasn't telling me and that I needed to talk to him. I had said that he wouldn't talk to me. I had asked Reid numerous times what I did and he refused to answer or acknowledge my existence if it didn't involve work. 

"Then make him listen. You know where he lives. Go to his apartment, sit him down, and make him listen. Make him tell you what changed. Don't leave any room open for him to say no." Getting angry at my co-workers was something that I wasn't a fan of doing but Derek was right. I wasn't going to get anywhere with asking Spencer what I did, or just hoping that he will come to his senses and let me know what happened. I pursed my lips in defeat and nodded. "Text him on the way home and go there tonight. Let's go though. Gotta escort the judge out." 

A heavy pat on my shoulder had followed when I stood up alongside Derek. Officers had brought Schuller out of the interrogation room, JJ leading them towards the front door of the precinct with Rossi holding a tight grip on the forearm of the judge, and we joined behind them. Morgan's phone began to rang as we stepped outside and my hand involuntarily shot up to block the sun from my eyes while I mentally cursed myself for forgetting my sunglasses on the plane. A crowd of cameras and reporters had flooded my senses as JJ tried to control the commotion by saying that the handcuffed judge was currently helping with an investigation and how that was the only information that they could give us at this time. Morgan was trying to speak above the loud voices to hear Hotch better and I hung back to hear what had been said when he would get off the phone. Out of the corner of my eye though, I caught sight of the judge turning his head slightly towards Rossi and within seconds of the agent beside me being off the phone, a defining shot rang out and everyone dropped to their knees in panic. 

"Everybody down!" Our weapons were pulled from our holsters as the reporters scattered like ants and JJ had been sprayed with a layer of vibrant red blood with the judge now laying lifeless on the ground in front of her. My gun was raised slightly while my gaze never stayed in one place for long while we looked for the person who had shot their own gun to kill the judge. That's where the other 50,000 was going. He was the last name on the list. Rossi had kneeled next to the breathless body on the steps of the precinct with his fingers reaching for the golden locket that had slipped from the judge's hand upon falling to the floor. The shooter was no longer here and we hesitantly holstered our weapons as the rest of our team pulled up in a patrol car. Prentiss and Hotch slowly got out of the car with their eyes locked on the scene before them, Detective Hardesty holding his breath when he saw the blood pooling into the tan concrete. "Shit . . ."

After everything had been cleaned up and the conference room was cleared of any sign of the FBI, we made our way towards the jet that had the door already open and awaiting our arrival. JJ had immediately gone to the bathroom to take a quick shower in order to rid the smell of blood from her body while everyone else took a heavy seat on the leather chairs. Hotchner had sat across from Rossi whose fingers had fiddled with the necklace and Morgan sat next to me with his hand pushing my knee lightly. I had told Hotch that I would visit my mother another time since we had lived so close so the look that Morgan had given me when he took his seat was all I need to get. My fingers pulled my phone out of my pocket, opening up Spencer's contact name, before typing out the simple words 'we need to talk' and sending the message. Whether I wanted to know why Spencer stopped talking to me or not was something that I hadn't figured out yet. 


End file.
